


Even the Darkest Night will end.

by Lianria



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Also Baelish is a creep, Assault, F/F, F/M, Grooming, Jaquen H'gar isnt much better, M/M, Will not really be Sansa Friendly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:07:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 73,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21568903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lianria/pseuds/Lianria
Summary: Arya reaches out to old allies for help, and the pack begins to reform. Pack dosent always mean just wovles anymore.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Asha Greyjoy/Daenerys Targaryen, Satin Flowers/Jon Snow
Comments: 174
Kudos: 209





	1. At the End of the day, I dreamed a dream.

**Author's Note:**

> Aiming for mainly book verse here, but may pull in some show elements, mainly the Others having some kind of leader.  
> Gonna try to update this weekly around Mondays, but I have two kids and its the holidays so who knows. This story at least I have planned out for several chapters. I did fudge Arya's age just a little bit to make her a tad bit older. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! and if not... well 'If you cant say something nice, go the hell away.'

As the sun set, a young woman bolted a door shut and triple checked the locked windows and blocked alternate entrances. A cough drew her attention as she turned to gaze at an old man holding a boy to his chest, trying desperately to run warmth into his back. She knelt by the coughing young boy and handed him the small jug filled with water and handed the dried meat to the old man holding him. She ran her fingers through the boys curled and tangled Auburn hair and smiled softly as he drank shallowly before handing the jug to the older man. The girl waved off the dried meat claiming she had been able to eat something before she returned from her day of scrounging and pickpocketing what she could to get them by. At the end of the day you get nothing for nothing, sitting flat on your butt doesn’t buy any bread. The girl had seen enough starvation in her time, and she refused to let the little boy succumb to that. They needed help, and she knew who to ask.

She just hoped he was still alive.

The girl moved over to the small hearth and knew she had to risk a small fire for the boys sake. He was ill, had been since he had arrived in Braavos. As the tiny flames caught on what few sticks she could gather together, they threw an orange glow and a slight warmth to the rapidly cooling air. As the sticks stayed lit without flickering , the girl moved one of the small logs she had found onto the growing fire.

As the log caught, she started to think of a name she had tried hard to push from her mind for years. This was different, she needed help, she had to put her anger aside. The boy needed help and this wasn’t about her, it was about him, and she wasn't about to lose him too. As the flames grew she spared a glance over her shoulder and took in the shivering boy cradled in the arms of the old man. The girl turned back to the flame and after a moment whispered a name.

* * *

_Thoros…_

Thoros was passed out cold on a table in the dining room of the Inn at the Crossroads, when a whisper of a long, almost forgotten voice, came to his ears. His head jerked up and he stared blearily at the lone candle still burning in the room.

_Thoros…_

He knew that voice. It was a dead voice.

_Thoros of Myr…_

Okay maybe not so dead, that or the drink has finally pickled his brain.

_Thoros please…._

The candle began to flicker and Thoros shook himself awake and surged to his feet. A glance at the hearth of the dining room showed cold ashes. No help there, he needed a flame and his hands shook too much to be able to start a fire, and Anguy and Tom were both bedded down with ladies of the village. A faint banging noise caught his attention and Thoros turned to the window.

Gendry's forge.

Of course, the man never could sleep when the Lady was in residence near by. Said the Little lady would never forgive them for what they had let happen, he couldn’t help but agree with the lad. Thoros lurched across the yard unsteadily, heading for the forge in the darkness. The consistent pattern of the bangs helping the old man find his way. Shoving the door open, Thoros stumbled passed the hammer that narrowly misses his head as he neared the flames of the forge.

"Thoros?! What the fuck are you doing in here?"

"Hush lad, I need to borrow your flames."

"You need to what now?"

"SHHHHHH"

Gendry stared at the priest, clearly weighing the benefits of going and waking Harwin to get the man of out his way. When suddenly Thoros froze, staring intently into the flames, a small smile crossing his face.

"Well hello there girl."

Gendry rolled his eyes and moved to grab the old sot's shoulders. Definitely drunk.

"C'mon you drunken idiot let's get you back inside the inn before you keel over on me. I have work t'do and your arse is in my way."

Thoros slapped at Gendry's hands and looked into a familiar face, much older and very obviously ill. He could see the room behind her, where an old man cradled a shivering lad of possibly nine years of age or younger.

"Where are you child? Arya can you show me where you are?"

Thoros heard Gendry's intake of breath and could hear his steps falter at the girls name. It was common practice not to say that name around the boy, particularly if he had been drinking. A man could get a black eye or broken jaw that way. Gendry was the only one who knew that Thoros blamed himself for Arya's kidnapping and presumed death as much as Gendry blamed himself. Many hours had been spent begging the flames to show him even a glimpse of the girl, but the last vision he had that even hinted at her presence had been of the sack of Saltpans.

" You haven't been able to see her for all this time, yet you say her name now. Can… can you see her?"

Thoros reached out blindly for the mans shoulder, not taking his eyes off the girl in the flames.

"I can boy. Finally I know she's at least alive, I know of no other with eyes like that. Look into the flames can you see her?"

Gendry stiffened under his hand.

"You know I cant see shit in those flames old man."

Thoros knew Gendry was now pushing the false hope away. When suddenly a loud roar echoed through the small forge, rattling the tools and the various bits of armor and pots laid around. The young smith dropped to his knees, covering his ears against the roar.

In the flames Arya mouthed a name.

"He's alright little lady, I know you can't hear me but know he's alright. I know where you are now, I'll bring him with me. I swear it, we won't let you down again."

The grey eyes in the flames stared to fade as the old priest yelled into the flames to go to the Isle of the Gods, a priest would be waiting there. Thoros stood up from the flames and looked at the startled smith beside him.

"Get you things lad. I know where Arya Stark is, and your coming with me."

Thoros made for the door of the smith before Gendry soft words stopped him. The young mans face ashen and stricken at the prospect of seeing his dearest friend again.

"She's not in Winterfell is she? That noise, what the fuck was that?"

Thoros shook his head sadly.

"No lad, she isn't. Best brace yourself now, I fear our little lady had been through all seven of the hells of the Faith and back. She wont be the same as the little girl you knew."

Gendry stared at the old drunk, his glare bordering on the demonic in the light of the forges dying flames.

"No. No matter what she's been through, I know who that girl is."

Thoros nodded and walked out into the pre dawn light preparing to drag a grumpy Tom and Anguy from their warm beds, and bed companions. The four rode for Saltpans before the sun was completely up and anyone beyond Willow Heddle awake. She was sworn to secrecy that the group was leaving and told only that they were pursuing a vision of Thoros' that directly involved Gendry. His disdain for the drunken man was well known, but Gendry also believed in the Lord of Light and it was known he didn’t discount the visions of his priests.

Riding towards the rising sun, Gendry had the uncomfortable feeling of being watched and out of the corner or his eye he caught glimpses of a tawny wolf and a black wolf, followed by smaller wolves as they rode hard for Saltpans. Thoros smiled as he also caught sight of them and pointed out that they were not regular wolves, but direwolves. The living symbol of House Stark, and known companions of the children of Eddard Stark.

Arya. From what she had told him all those years ago, if they were letting themselves be seen it meant something good… or you were about to get eaten. He couldn’t remember exactly which it was. He just hoped it meant she and which ever brother that one belonged to were still alive.

Please, please let this be her.

* * *

As the sun rose, a girl lead a young boy and an old man across a bridge. A small door stood open to them where a Priest stood waiting.

"Valar Morghulis. Hello Arya of House Stark. I am Athuz. I have been waiting for you."

Arya stood before the boy as strongly as she could.

"Valar Dohaeris. You knew we were coming? How?"

"You think that Thoros of Myr was the only one watching for you child? Several of our order have been searching for you. Rest now, let our healers see to your wounds. Thoros and those who travel will him shall be here in a fortnight, rough seas I fear. I swear on the old gods, as I know you have no care for the new ones, you and yours will be safe here."

Arya arched an eyebrow weakly.

"Not the Lord of Light?"

Athuz smiled.

"Who ever said the Lord of Light wasn't one of the old ones? Didn’t the House of Black and White teach you that the gods are all one and the same? Just different names and faces?"

Arya nodded and watched as the healers moved towards the sick boy. In his fever and fear he snapped at them.

"Shh Rickon, it's alright. They're going to help you get better. No biting."

Arya pulled her little brother into her arms and followed the healers into a small warm room. She settled Rickon onto a bed and let the healers do their work.

"Peace wild thing. I know your frightened, but I swear I won't let you be hurt. I promise little brother."

Rickon turned his fevered blue eyes to her.

"Words are wind, Everyone promised to come back and none did. You found me by accident."

Arya nodded and sighed.

"I tried Rickon. I know its not enough, but I did. I was only a year or so older than you are now when Father died. And I was alone with only a few boys barely older than me. I can't imagine how scary it was for you, but I take comfort that Osha protected you as long as she could. None of us wanted to leave you. I always dreamed of making it home in those first few months. I had a dream of what my life would be, so different from this hell we've been living. Hang in there little brother."

Rickon stared into her eyes before nodding and burrowing his face into her shoulder as the healers finished their work on him.

"Tell me about them Arry. Robb, Jon, Sansa. Tell me about them."

Arya smiled and launched into one of her favorite memories of her brothers, the very first time Robb and Jon caught her trying to shoot arrows into a target and how Robb had played lookout for their mother while Jon coached her on how to shoot, as she tucked the warm blankets around her little brother's tiny frame.

Davos smiled as he leaned against the wall, accepting a flagon of clean water from one of the healers, the pups were injured and sick, but they were strong. 


	2. Castle on a cloud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rickon watches over his sister and tries to remember, elsewhere a dead man wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it seems slightly all over the place, its supposed to. Rickon is only nine maybe ten and he's gone through a lot.

As the sun slowly began to peek in the edges of the sealed window of their little room, Rickon began to stir. For the first time in weeks he didn’t wake up coughing with pain in his chest. A few days of warm food and a dry place to sleep helped immensely, although his sister had been acting sluggish for the last few days, favoring her side. Snuggling further into the warmth beside him, the young boy looked blearily at the face of his big sister, curled beside him, with Davos sitting against the wall beside her snoring.

He felt sad that he hadn't recognized her when they found her, Davos apparently had because according to him she looked so very much like Jon. Rickon had snapped and snarled at her when she reached for him, her face, voice and smell faintly familiar.

Arya's eyes slowly slid open, glazed and unfocused. Rickon knew what this was. He reached over her to shake Davos awake.

"Davos. Aya has fever."

"A fever lad, Arya has A Fever. Stay with her, I'll see if I can find that priest."

Davos hurried from the chamber as Rickon pulled the blankets tighter around his sister. He knew what fevers did, a fever is what killed Osha, what killed Kollion, killed most of their village. And now his sister had one.

* * *

Rickon barely remembered Winterfell, he remembered the snow, travelling with Bran and others he couldn't quite remember the names of. A boy and a girl with curly brown hair and funny spears that looked like forks. He remembers saying goodbye to Bran and the man on the boat Osha bribed to take them to Skagos.

He knows Bran is still alright. Every so often a crow would fly over the little village in Skagos where he and Osha were hidden. It's strange blue eyes searching, it would always land nearby and caw at Shaggydog before hopping over to him and looking him up and down. Sometimes they would croak "Brother" before the eye went black and the bird fell dead from exhaustion.

He can't remember what father and mother look like, he can remember their words scolding he and Aya for getting muddy. He remembers a scratchy red beard hugging him for the last time, he can remember cold blue eyes glaring at him when he would reach for comfort and a high pitched voice telling him he was too old for that, and a grey eyed second voice snapping that he was just a baby. He remembers a boy with dark curly hair scooping him up onto shoulders and galloping around the training yard. He remembers Theon, his nightmares will never let him forget Theon.

His clearest memories are of the little cave they hid in for what felt like forever, sending Shaggy out during the day to hunt, eating what they could catch in the little tide pool. They day they met Kollion was wet and cold.

Hard rains had fallen for days the little cave was crawling with small animals seeking shelter. He and Osha had killed most of them and were skinning them and cooking the meat when a large man covered in furs climbed in. Osha had nearly taken his head off. They two fought before he ultimately pinned her beneath him, staring down at her for a few moments before letting her up, then they shared the meat they had cooked with him and Osha went back to prepping the small furs to be dried and be used to line their boots. He didn’t understand and Osha didn't explain.

Once the rains let up Kollion took them to his village and claimed Osha as his and Rickon as his son. He taught Rickon a how to track along the rocky shores and how to fight with the black blades, and how to tan the skins of his kills. An old woman in the village taught him about some medicinal plants and Osha had taught him how to stich the skins together into things. Shaggydog had seemed wary of the men but as long as he was left alone he didn't bite anyone, he would disappear for days at a time but always came back with a rabbit or some other small game. Rickon made sure to spend time near the wierwood tree near the village when Shaggydog was gone, he remembered sitting with a man with a long face and dark hair next to one. Father maybe? He wasn’t sure anymore but the sadness was better there.

Rickon would dream once or twice a moon that he was running on Shaggydog's paws through the forest, following a scent. A tawny wolf and a white wolf would find him, his sister and brother. Summer never joined them, he was too far. Sometimes sister's little cousins would range up with her. Sister and brother always carried two scents, sister's was faint but brother's was strong. Shaggydog knew the second scents were their other halves. Sister hadn't seen hers in a very long time but every so often Sister's half would slip her skin and the scent would be strong again. Brother always smelled of his half, he was always with him but sometimes the half would slip brothers skin and the three would run and wrestle in the woods.

But Shaggy was gone now. He had vanished when Davos had found the village. A fever had come with a trader from another village. It had spread quickly, the old and the very young first, then the strong started to fall. Kollion and finally Osha. Davos came the day Osha died, he told her Jon was searching for him. Osha had remembered the brother, had tried to tell him what she remembered about them all. Shaggy had sniffed Davos from head to foot, the man standing stock still apprehensively before snorthing at him and nudging Rickon towards the man and turning away to disappear into the trees near the coast.

Osha had passed and the villagers had added her body to the pyres, by nightfall Rickon and Davos were ready to leave the only home Rickon could really remember.

He couldn’t remember why they came to Braavos instead of going back to the North, but by the time they landed Rickon was sick. His chest hurt with each cough and his head ached. Rickon wanted to blame the sickness for it recognizing the girl on the docks, but he knew it was the fault of time.

Davos had arranged for them to dock near the dock of a friend of his, Salador Sahaan. The man had been chatting with a young woman walking along the docks, her short dark hair familiar, the grey eyes as well. She had frozen when she saw the sick little boy in Davos' arms. Davos had recognized her look, and when he pressed her for her name she didn't respond. Her shocked gaze locked on the boy.

Salvador introduced her as Cat of the Canals.

"Best smuggler in Braavos when you can find her. She disappears for a few days every so often. She can get anything you want for a price. Her information is always spot on. "

The girl had reached out and gently tucked one of Rickon's sweat soaked red curls behind his ear, he growled at her. She had only smirked in reply and began to sing a soft tune.

"I know a place where no ones lost, I know a place where no one cries. Crying at all is not allowed, not in my castle on a cloud."

He didn't know the girl, but he knew that melody. Only one person had ever sang that melody, one she had made up just for him after a frightening dream where he was lost in the crypts.

"Aya?"

"Hello Rickon. Hello wild little wolf."

She had to go away for a day but she left her sword with him as a promise. He refused to believe her words. It was sundown when she returned, drenched and bleeding from a hastily stitched wound on her side. Rickon and Davos has followed her to a small house and into a room. She said it wasn't safe for them to be exposed, it would help his cough. Someone had given some names or something, he couldn't really remember. For several days she would go out and come back with new bruises, some medicine for his cough, and a sack of food. Before finally bringing them here after spending hours whispering into a fire. She finally rested here, had promised they were safe here. And now a fever had her.

He sat beside her and hummed the song she had taken to singing to him as he slept.

* * *

Davos returned, leading Athuz behind him. The man looked at Arya, felt her head and her wrist. He pulled her eyes open and then put his ear to her chest. Davos in the meantime set a few bowls and one large pail of water on the hearth and poured the water into the bowls to heat.

"When she die?"

Athuz turned to Rickon in confusion.

" Who said your sister is dying?"

"Aya has… a fever. Fever kills. My sister is dying."

Athuz smiled.

"Yes Arya does, but this is a different fever. This is an infection. This can be healed, I just have to find the source. Your sister will not leave you if I have any say in it. You didn't die from your fever and neither shall she."

He began to strip Arya of her outer clothes, methodically checking each inch of bared skin for a wound. When all that remained was her tunic and small clothes he frowned at the dark patch along her side. Athuz cut the fabric around the spot and reached for a bowl of hot water and a rag. He soaked the rag and gently pressed it to her side, Arya flinched and let out a moan of pain. Ever so slowly, Athuz peeled the dark piece of fabric away from Arya's side to reveal the long slash across her upper abdomen, hastily stitched together and angry red and seeping from one side. The edge under the fabric was caked in dried black blood and the smell was disgusting.

"I believe we found it. I'm going to give her Milk of the Poppy so she will sleep through us cleaning the wound. It will cause her great pain."

Rickon helped hold Arya's head still as Athuz poured a dose down her throat. As they waited her eyes slid closed and her breathing eased. Athuz stood and left the room to grab a small bag, and a bar of soap. He scrubbed his hands with the soap and opened the bag to remove a small pair of sharp valerian steel blade, no bigger than Rickons thumb. He placed the blades in the bowl of water Davos had settled in the embers, the water bubbling slowly. After a few minutes he pulled the bowl out and use a cloth the scoop the blades out before dropping the cloth back into the hot water.

"Davos, could you please hold her legs? Rickon, her shoulders if you would. Even asleep she's going to fight this."

Once Arya was held down, Athuz gently pressed the blade to the inflamed skin. Ever so slowly he eased the blade along the length of the cut as Davos and Rickon grunted against the sudden jerking of Arya's body. With each movement of the blade to her skin, the girls body jerked, trying to avoid the sharp blade.

Rickon snarled at the whimpers of pain that escaped his sleeping sister.

"You hurt her, said you help. Why?"

Athuz smiled softly at the boy.

"The infection needs to be drained and cleaned. If we don't her fever will not break and it will get into her blood. That will kill her and I promised you she would live. Enough promises have been broken to you."

As the skin parted milky pink blood seeped out, the smell in the room enough to make them all gag. Athuz wiped the wound clean and allowed the blood to continue to seep out, catching it in the extra rags he had near by. He scraped the sides of the wound as gently as he could, whispering for the girl not to jerk to much. When the blood finally dropped dark red and clear, Athuz left for a moment returning with a small jar. He gave his hands another quick scrub in the bucket with the soap before opening the jar and scooping out a grey ointment and gently rubbing it to Arya's wound then putting some linen on the wound and wrapping more linen around her abdomen to keep it covered.

"This will help fight the infection from the outside, and will help the skin and tissue heal. She will have another scar but I think it wont be so bad. Now she just needs to rest, let her body fight the infection from the inside. I will have a herbal tea and broth be brought for her. It will help her body get strong again. If she survives the next two days she will be alright. Have faith Wild Wolf, your sister is strong."

Rickon nodded and moved back to her side, humming their lullaby softly once again.

* * *

Across the narrow sea a pair of grey eyes snapped open. A dark haired man jerks away as a white wolf raises from the floor and a red witch backs away from the used-to-be-dead man on the table. He sits up slowly and locks eyes with the other man.

"Satin. Where is my sister?"

Satin swallows quickly.

"I don't know. We never made it away from the castle before… what happened."

The red witch stepped up to him holding out a small scrap of paper.

"A raven arrived while we waited for you."

"From the south? From the king?"

"From the north, the bird flew over the wall straight to your squire here."

The dead man snatched the paper from her hand as Satin draped a black fur cloak around his shoulders. The writing was faint, as if the words were scratched in ashes rather than ink.

**Jon-**

**It's not Arya. Do not trust the red woman.**

**Bran**

Satin flinches at the growl coming from both man and wolf.


	3. Who am I?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Check in on Gendry, Arya dreams, and a glimpse beyond the Wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note some updates in the tags for this one. Please be aware this chapter deals with grooming of a young adult.

Gendry grimaced as he watched one of the deckhands hold Anguy by the waist of his pants as the skinny man heaved what little was left in his stomach. It really wasn’t fair, every member of their party was either leaning over the rail or propped up against it while the deck crew laughed at them. All of them except for Thoros it seems, the man seemed steadier on rolling seas than on solid land. Claimed it was all those years of being stumbling drunk that gave him such instant sea legs. Gendry hated the man for that, but it would all be worth it to find her.

Gendry had finally allowed himself to hope the further out to sea they got, praying to any god that would listen that she was really there. That she was alright, and that she wouldn't punch him on sight. Hell he'd be thrilled even if she did, which was the most likely outcome, because it would mean she was alive. He wasn’t sure what he would do if she pulled a blade on him. The blade would be to quick and cold to dish out whatever revenge she needed for him choosing the brotherhood over her. Her fists would mean she wanted him to suffer knowing that she hurt herself hitting him. It would mean she still cared. Blades were easy for her an extension of her cold fury, as close as they had been she might still care enough to get up close to hurt him.

_I've never wanted to get punched more in my life._

* * *

In the four days since Athuz had drained the wound on Arya's stomach, she hadn't woken. Her fever had risen and fallen, she had whispered words in a language he didn’t understand, but not once had Rickon seen her grey eyes flutter open. He could only wonder at what she was dreaming. Athuz came twice a day to wash and redress the wound, the angry red of the tissue had faded to a light pink, which the priest had let him know meant that the infected tissue was healthy again and beginning to heal. Davos would help him prop his sister up against him and spooned broth and warm tea into her mouth to get some sustenance into her. Finally on the fourth day he woke to find her soaked in sweat, her skin cold to the touch, and her bright grey eyes open and clear.

"Hello little brother."

Rickon smiled and buried his head in her shoulder and cried.

"Your alright now. Priest promised, your alright."

His sister weakly lifted a hand to his dark auburn curls.

"With time little one I will be. I need rest."

Athuz and Davos entered the room and both smiled to see the woman awake. But Davos looked concerned once he took in Rickon's nervous movements. The boy had refused to leave his sister's side while she slept, refusing to not be there when she woke.

"Perhaps Rickon, now that your sister has woken, you might like to get some training in with some of the others here? I know several of the priests train with swords and staves for some defense."

Rickon shook his head vigorously, despite the look of longing in his eyes. Arya saw it as clearly as Davos did.

"Go Rickon. Your finally feeling better, you need to train to get your strength back."

"Not leaving you Aya. Your not alone."

Arya rolled her eyes, _Was I this stubborn at his age? Knowing me I was worse._

" How about this little brother. Athuz will have one of his priests sit with me, Davos will go with you. Once he is assured you will be safe, he can come back here to sit with me. Athuz will stay with you. I won't be alone and neither will you."

The boys blue eyes narrowed as he considered her words.

"Will you spar when your better?"

"Yes Rickon. I will spar with you, I want to see what you learned in Skagos and I will teach you what I've learned. Sound alright?"

Rickon nodded and looked to Davos. The old man smiled and clapped a hand on the boys shoulder.

"Lets go get you some exercise and let her sleep."

One of the red priests entered and took a seat by the doorway, Arya stared at him. Her eyes tracing the line of his jaw and the play of skin around his neck, looking for the subtle pale line that would prove that the face he wore wasn't his. Her stare made the young priest uncomfortable, the man starting to shift under her gaze and desperately attempting to avoid eye contact with her.

Davos returned for a few moments later and the priest all but ran from the room.

" A boy his age should not be that happy to see a room filled with weapons."

"I was the same way when I was his age. Having an armorer who could also make excellent weapons for a friend had its advantages. Our stolen swords were always of the best quality he could swipe and sharp. But his craftsmanship on armor is the best I think I have ever seen."

"You Starks are all the same, always wanting sharp things at hand. Your brother treats his sword with a reverence I have very rarely seen."

"Let me guess, he sits near a wierwood tree or a fire and polishes and sharpens it endlessly while brooding."

"Exactly."

Arya chuckled softly, a thousand questions for the man on the tip of her tongue, but her heavy eyes won out and she drifted to sleep.

* * *

_Her eyes opened into a small niche in the wall, she was cold, and blind. She could hear him moving around near her, moving things from where they had been when she felt her way around the room._

_Wonderful now I'll trip. Again._

_"Wake lovely girl. A man would like to speak with his friend."_

_A cold hand traced the curve of her jawbone, down her neck, the touch vanishing at her collarbone but she could feel it hovering. If she took too deep a breath her chest would hit his hand. Her hands quickly reached up to swat them away._

_"A girl is awake, what do you want Jaquen?"_

_It was always like this, after the Kindly Man would come and check on her, have her play the game of faces with the Waif or leave pots of poison for her to learn, Jaquen would inevitably show up to pester her. It was annoying. And confusing._

_"Does a girl remember the fire she saved a man from? She looked so lovely in the firelight."_

_I was a child, and of course I remember._

_It had taken her some time to realize what he was doing, for every time she would seem to let more of Arya Stark go, he would reappear as if to reinforce Arya's memories of him and only him. Her training was to let go of the connections Arya had made, and yet Jaquen seemed determined to keep her attached to him even going so far as to try to claim actions that belonged to others, Gendry and Hot Pie. He never touched her beyond her face and neck, but he came close, always trying to ease into her good graces. She watched through the eyes of the cats as her stared at her blind body, his eyes lingering in places they shouldn’t. He reached out a hand to stroke her face only to have it slapped away again, this time with a staff. A cat in the rafters above hissed softly._

* * *

Arya jerked awake, her skin crawling at the memory of the liberties she could remember being taken by that man. She had known since Harrenhal that the man she knew as Jaquen had an… unusual interest in her. Arya could remember anytime she was injured, if he wasn’t away seeking to give the gift, he would find his way into her cell and attempt to provide aid. Anytime she would pull back or try to reach out to the Waif during her training, he would always have some sort of answer to ensure she kept silent. He would always mention how much she owed him for saving her from Harrenhal and for her passage to Bravos. Gendry had known even back then that something was off about the man. She should have listened to him.

Davos was at her side, helping her sit up and offering her a cup of tea. She smiled at the kind old man, he was pouring over a book. As she sipped at the tea she asked what he was reading.

"Westrosi Folk tales, Orys and Argella."

"Stormlands man then?"

"Aye my lady. Fleabottom originally, but after a service to Stannis during the rebellion he granted me a knighthood and a seat."

"Stannis Baratheon? You’re the Onion Knight aren't you?"

The man smiled and nodded.

"I know I'm not really fit company for people of you and the lads stamp but your brother asked me to find you. He's a good man. I couldn’t refuse, I'd want someone to look for my boys if I was in his place."

"Some of the best men I know are bastards or from Flea bottom, or both. Don’t count yourself as anything less than a good man. Besides I was always making friends with 'the wrong sort' according to my mother and sister. Looks like that rubbed off on Jon."

Davos laughed and offered her another cup of tea, Arya declined with a yawn and settled back into the pillow for some more sleep.

* * *

_A girl had been given her eyes back. She was sitting in the lower floors with the Kindly Man and the Waif. Both looked at her with amusement. She had been working as Cat of the Canals again, gathering information on a man whom had sought the gift for his wife. He had claimed the woman was fatally ill, but Cat had discovered she was in perfect health. The man simply wanted her gone so that he could marry his step daughter. Cat may have also tipped the family of the stepdaughter's betrothed off and the pair may have hastened to the nearest temple and married immediately. Cat had smuggled the wife to her family along with the other children and all of the families possessions while the husband was passed out in a brothel along the happy port._

_"You are a singular thing girl. You are good with the kill that is true, however your information gathering is beyond reproach. You kill those of wicked and cruel nature without question, but when the innocent come to beg the gift for themselves you sit with them for hours and almost all end up leaving alive. Those who do not, you refuse to allow the others to care for. You go out of your way to use your aliases to help people. The goal of a faceless man is to be invisible, and yet you have made yours invaluable assets to those who trained you."_

_A girl looked down at her feet._

_"Innocents should be helped, some just need someone to listen, to understand. The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword."_

_The kindly man smiled._

_" Who are you child?"_

_Arya whispered in a girls mind - Who am I? Can I conceal myself forever, pretend I'm not the girl I was before? Must my name until I die be no more than an alibi?_

_The Kindly Man smiled softly and placed his hand on her clenched fingers._

_"You are not truly no one child. You cannot be. Would you like to know why?"_

_A girl blinked up at him in confusion._

_The Waif rose and walked over to a table to retrieve a scroll._

_"Names and a large bag of gold were sent to the House of Black and White. Names we believed to be dead, because Arya Stark said they were. Three times the names and the gold have come. The god of many faces has not accepted these names."_

_A girl looked confused._

_"What names? Why would the god not accept them?"_

_"These names have a purpose in this life that has not been served I suppose. As for the names, Arya Stark, Rickon Stark, Bran Stark, Jon Snow, Theon Greyjoy, Daenerys Targaryen, Shireen Baratheon, Edric Storm and Gendry Waters. Know you any of these names?"_

_Arya Stark stared at the Waif in shock, her voice turning into an angry snarl._

_"My brothers are dead. They died when Theon sacked Winterfell."_

_"They are not, they live. Go girl, you were lead here under false pretenses, and knowing the brothers live you will not be able to let Arya Stark go. The wolf cries out for her pack. We will call on you in future, you will not be able to use the magic of the faces again, but your other skills will serve you well."_

_Arya Stark walked out into the bright sunlight, not sparing a glance at the furious face draped in red and white locks._

* * *

A crash from the hallway startled Arya awake, Davos had the door thrown open sword in hand and had tossed a dagger onto the bed beside her. Arya was halfway out of the bed before Davos sheathed his sword with a sigh.

"Be at rest my lady. Just a young lad with a tray far to big for a boy his size to carry. Seems your brother is putting the fighting priests through their paces if the noise is any indication." Arya nodded and returned to her bed with a yawn.

* * *

_It had taken only a few weeks on the docks as Cat to get herself reestablished with her contacts getting into the flow of Westrosi information and goods again. She learned about the purple wedding, Sansa Stark going missing, of the 'liberation' or 'massacre' of Mereen depending on whom was asked. As Mercedene she slipped back into her role as the part time apprentice of Bellegere. Learning more practical ways to get men to spill their secrets. She learned in the brothel that Davos Seaworth had slipped off to Skagos in search of a missing little boy. She learned of Euron Greyjoy seeking the Dragon Horn and ranging all over the narrow sea, learned that the Lannister fleet was slowly making its way to the north to support the Bolton and attempting to cut off the Wall from sea travel and supplies._

_Four times Jaquen had attempted to grab her, four times he had failed. He was getting desperate. She was standing on the docks with Sahan when an old man stepped off a small ship that had tied off. Holding a coughing little boy. With dark auburn curls and icy blue eyes and a longer face than she remembered. Her fingers gently slipped a curl away from his forehead and she smiled as he snapped at her. A whisper of a lullaby and the boy was in her arms clutching tightly to her._

_She left them to return to the brothel to see if she could find out any information from the newest group of Westrosi sailors, when she received information about a group of men talking about having a rather excessive amount of gold. Some of the older women within the establishment had taken a shine to the eager young thing who was willing to learn just about anything and was able to produce anything that the women got a whim for, they felt this information would be useful to the girl._

_The men had attempted to petition the House of Black and White to end several people and carried a large amount of gold with them, only to be refused and handed several other sacks of gold. They were asked to return the gold to the sender. The men drank themselves into a stupor with a single jug of ale, and several of the women found a apple sized bag of gold on their beds the next morning._

_She had made it only a few alleys over from the orphanage when he struck._

_Her mind was so caught up in what she had heard, he was able to get the drop on her. Jaquen slammed her against the wall, her head bouncing off and her ears ringing._

_"My lovely girl will not leave me."_

_"I am not yours Jaquen, and I am not a girl."_

_Her knee aimed for his groin, which he quickly countered, but he could not counter her fist to his kidney. As he flinched from the impact, Arya drove the heel of her palm up into his nose, enough to cause his eyes to water but not hard enough to break. Her fist to the inside of his elbow weakened his hold on her and Arya was able to spin away from him and out of his grasp. She made it a few steps before he slammed into her from behind, landing hard on the ground._

_"A girl will be mine or she will be no mans."_

_His arm wound around her throat and squeezed as she bucked against him. She went limp and his arm eased off the pressure as Jaquen tried to stand. As he pulled his body off of hers, Arya shot out from under him and made another attempt to run. She was able to make it to the side of one of the canals before he caught up with her. Yet again he lunged this time with blade out, she spun to the side his blade catching at the clothing across her belly, sharp enough to part the cloth with ease and to slip into the flesh beneath. He grabbed at her and was able to catch her wrist as he went over the side of the canal and drug her into the filthy water with him. She was able to twist herself around in the water enough to send as sharp kicks as she was able to his head and his grip on her wrist loosened._

_Arya surfaced and swam for a canal entrance, she did not see him surface again. Arya pulled herself out of the filthy water and slowly made her way towards the abandoned home of the mummers she had known. She had kept the rent paid as had used it as a flop house of sorts. Grabbing a needle and what little thread she had, Arya quickly stitched the wound closed and cleaned the little room up as best she could, securing the windows and the second door. Rickon would be safe here._

_He would attack her several more times once Rickon and Davos were safely in the room, when she would go out to get some food. Finally Arya built a fire and prayed._

* * *

Arya woke with a stretch as Rickon cam bounding back into the room, flushed and sweating and looking happier than he had in the entire time they'd been back together.

"Went well then?"

His shining blue eyes lit up with excitement.

"They fight so oddly here. Not like Skagosi fight, it was fun to try to slip by them."

Arya laughed, reaching up to ruffle the boys auburn curls.

"Just wait until I get my legs back under me little brother. It will be good to spar with someone my size for once."

Rickon laughed and dropped a kiss to her forehead as Davos waved the boy out to a bath.

"Gods I forgot how boys his age smell."

"Try trekking through the woods with two and not seeing a bath for months. I actually looked forward to rain because it would dampen the smell. Although I can imagine I wasn’t exactly pleasant to be around myself."

Athuz came in and gently removed the wrappings from her side.

"Something on your mind priest? Your shoulders are tense and your face drawn."

"A man has been skulking around the temple. At one time a faceless one, but no longer. I have word from the Temple of the Many Faced God that the man has been expelled from the order. I worry for you if the man does not give up his quest. The temple has said their god has claimed the mans name but sent warning for you to be wary."

Arya sighed and nodded.

"Jaquen will not stop until his head leaves his body. Once I am well I will deal with him. I will not allow him to threaten my brother or Ser Davos' safety. Any word of the ones coming from Westeros?"

Athuz smiled.

"Going along smoothly I would expect. The Lord of Light has not shown me anything otherwise. As well as the strangest bird flying around the temple. It dropped a small scroll in my lap before falling down dead."

Athuz offered the scroll to the woman, who slowly unrolled it and smiled at its contents.

**Underfoot-**

**Wolves are returning to the Den. Keep your Bull close.**

**-Bran**

* * *

Beyond the wall, the eyes of Brandon Stark slip from milky white back to their familiar Tully blue. A not-quite-dead man looks up at the boy over the fire. Meera and Jojen are off to one side, snuggled in to the warmth of Summer's fur.

"Well?"

"Jon's been warned, Arya too. She has Rickon."

"Good. We need to get you lot south. Would you like to get out of the tree now?"

"Yes please Uncle Benjen."


	4. Lovely Ladies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon tries to figure out where everything stands, Sansa looks out a window, and Arya has some visitors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this isn't as complete as I had wanted it to, but it felt like it hit a natual conclusion to me.... and I've had a shit week.

Jon and Satin stood in the courtyard of Eastwatch by the Sea. He had refused to stay at Castle Black upon his awakening… revival he wasn't sure what to call it. Satin and the Wildings had followed with him and he had thrown open all of the passages through the wall to give the Wildings still left North of it escape.

He had received word of Stannis's failed attempt to remove the Bolton from Winterfell, and that "Lady Arya" had escaped with Theon Greyjoy's aid.

Stannis was attempting to make his way back to Eastwatch, but was being hampered by injuries and the snow.

"Have we heard anything from Davos? He should have been back by now."

" Word was he made landfall in Skagos but nothing beyond that."

Satin stood beside him, arms crossed over his chest watching the man out of the corner of his eye. 

"What do we do now?"

Jon sighed and shook his head.  
"We need to get Winterfell from the Bolton's. But not until I talk to Stannis and Tormund."

A wilding knocked on the door catching both men off guard.

"Riders coming. Looks like a couple of women and a man. Got a banner with a bear on it and a green one we can't quite make out. Looks like something in a circle."

"House Mormont? There's only a few of them left. I know Maege and her older girls were with Robb. Rumor was one of them left few days before the Wedding. Wonder what she wants."

"What Norther house has a green banner with a circle on it?"

"Reed maybe? But we're pretty far North for them. Howland hasn't left the crannogs since the rebellion I think."

* * *

Arya was finally up and moving, stretching and weaving her way slowly through the movements of the Water Dance. Rickon has teased her once, until she made him copy her. His muscles were used to more brute strength than endurance, he hadn't lasted long but was making progress keeping up with her. His concentrated focus was helping his temperament, having the goal of surpassing his sister gave the young boy a focus for all of his energy.

With the rumor that a man had been skulking around the Temple doors, Arya had insisted on seeing every new entrant to the temple. Twice she had seen Jaquen just outside, his face gaunt and hollow looking, his once fine hair fell in greasy clumps around his shoulders. He never made a move to enter, just glared at her then turned away. The only interesting person to enter was an old man carrying several large books with him and a bag of what looked like smiths tools. 

Eventually the reports of his presence ceased, and a part of Arya was relieved. Another of the order must have taken his name, she knew he wouldn't just give up. 

Davos had gone out with Athuz that morning, down to the docks. They hadn't shared the reason for the trip and the pair had shared a smile as they looked at Arya while leaving the safety of the temple.

Arya shook herself from her musings as she assessed Rickon's stance, watching for the twitch of his muscles and eyes to see where he would attempt to swing his wooden sword first. Her staff was loose at her side, ready to parry his blow before he knew he would make the move. They had been at this for a while and her brother's frustration was amusing. She fussed with the scarf around her neck making sure it was tight and out of his reach.

He finally swung to her left as she danced right and knocked the sword out of his grasp.

And spun to press the end of her staff into the throat of the man in the shadows. 

"Rickon, run. Get to the chamber and bolt the door."

"Aya?"

"Go. Now!"  
"Hello my lovely girl."

Jaquen grabbed the staff and used it to pull her against him. His other hand shooting up to fist in the scarf and short collars at her neck. Arya allowed him to bury his nose against the silken fabric for a moment before planting her foot on his and her knee in his groin. She was able to shove him away as he drew his blade, the same one he had stabbed her with, as she jumped back to grab her own sheathed dagger from the table along the edge of the room.

His hand snagged in her hair before she could reach it, its twin wrapping around her throat catching on silk. Jaquen's breathing started to become more labored as Arya smiled, his face right against her neck.  
"You cannot best me with a blade girl."  
"Who said I needed a blade Jaquen. Having some trouble there are you?"  
Rickon burst back into the room distracting Arya for a moment, giving Jaquen a chance to strike. She landed flat on her back with him sitting on her chest, his hands clenched around her throat. Arya clawed at his hands while Rickon ran towards her, but the room was large and Jaquen knew his pressure points well. As her vision began to blacken a loud crashing sound dimly made its way to her ears. Jaquen was suddenly gone from her chest, Rickon at his knees beside her reaching for her neck. She managed to swat his hands away as she coughed and pulled the scarf free. She refused to let him touch it as she cast it into a empty pot beside her.   
Athuz appeared at her side with a steaming bowl of water and a bar of lye soap. Arya quickly scrubbed her neck and her hands clean before turning to face the bloody mess that was Jaquen's head. A single blow to the head had caved in where his right ear used to be.   
A blow from a hammer. 

Standing beside the bloody body was Gendry, his face twisted into a hellish snarl, his bloody hammer suddenly dropped onto the already damaged skull below crushing anything that was left.

Arya moves to the table and took up Needle, a swift blow and what was left of Jaquens head was severed from his body. Athuz motioned for a young priest to gather it in a bag before he disappeared. Arya watched him go before turning to the shaken smith before her. 

"Arya… I…"

CRACK.

  
"I don't get it? She hit him, now she's crying on him."  
Davos and the priest laughed as Rickon looked on confused at the sight of his sister both hitting and hugging the large man on the floor, the pair both crying.  
"You'll understand one day. "  
Rickon looked back as the man attempted to stand, Arya still clinging to his neck his arms wrapped tightly around her.

* * *

  
Sansa looked out at the small courtyard where Sweetrobin was throwing yet another tantrum. 

Little brat.

She had been going over the books for the Eerie and had noticed several sums of gold missing. She had meant to bring it up with Peytr when he returned, he was away seeing to an issue at one of the minor houses of the Vale. Harold would be there by dinner time, Sansa was looking forward to seeing him again. She knew she had to secure their marriage before they could give Robin the final dose, but the other Lords of the Vale were already discussing how weak and frail the boy was. If she played this right she would have exactly what she wanted, a husband, a keep of her own and power over her people. She would be the wife of a Lord Paramount by the next moon if she had her way, and safe. Then she could turn to taking back what was rightfully hers. Winterfell.

Sansa burned with anger at the thought of her little brat of a sister being the Lady of Winterfell, married to the Bolton bastard or not. Arya didn't deserve to be the Lady of their childhood home. Sansa was the elder, it belonged to her by rights and she would take it back. Arya would pay for taking what didn't belong to her, she always had stuck herself into places where she didn’t belong.

Mya Stone watched quietly from the shadows as the bastard daughter of Peytr Baelish sighed and returned to the account books in the table.

* * *

  
Arya dabbed at the dried blood on Gendry's face. Only half listening to the other men talk around her and keeping watch of Rickon and Anguy out of the corner of her eye. The boy had been taken with Anguy and somehow had convince him to work with him on his archery. 

Thoros and Davos were swapping rumors, confirming what they could. So far she had learned that Joeffery was dead, Sansa missing, The Targaryen woman had supposedly hatched either Dragons or demons. Tyrion Lannister had fled Westeros and was rumored to be in Essos seeking her. Arya supposedly married off to Ramsay Bolton. Oh and her mother had been raised from the dead and was hanging anyone she decided was even remotely tied to the Frey and Lannister armies. 

There were other rumors as well but the men couldn't confirm them. Jon Snow dead, Stannis Baratheon Dead. Edmure presumed dead. A man claiming to be the dead Prince Aegon staring to stir up trouble in the Stormlands.

When she spoke up they all appeared startled, even Gendry jumped.

"Well the answer is fairly simple. We need information on both what's actually happening in Westeros and the rest of Essos. I know how to get it."

"Your smuggling contacts?" Davos looked skeptical.

"No, my brothel ones."

Gendry jerked up straight in front of her.  
"Your what now?"

"My brothel contacts. The ones in the Happy Port will have the best information for the Westrosi matters, but for the Essosi issues I will need to go visit The Black Pearl, she'll have the best information. They might be able to get me some information about someone losing an awful lot of gold trying to pay off the House."

"Why do you have contacts in a brothel Arya?"

"I trained there for many months, several of the women took a liking to me and taught me a lot. Now if I hurry I can be at the Port tonight and be back by morning with some confirmation. The lovely ladies got a lot of callers but they never stay for long. I need to get down there."

Arya stood and left the room before any of the others could stop her. 

Gendry, Thoros and Davos shared a look. None knew exactly how to handle this. This Arya was far more self assured than the angry child Thoros and Gendry had known. Some moments later Arya reappeared, clasping a black cloak about her shoulders. 

Thoros spoke up first.  
"You don't need I do this Lady Arya."

"Oh are you going to wear a dress and make nice in the brothels then? We need specific information and we need it sooner rather than later. I know where to get it, and I have the contacts to make sure it's legitimate."

"Where will you be going?"  
"Happy Port to start, where all the whores and sailors go. Then tomorrow afternoon I will send a request for an audience with The Black Pearl."

Gendry grunted and stalked over to her.  
"Absolutely not. You were attacked literally just a few hours ago, we just found each other and now your planning on…. What in the hells are you wearing?"  
"The latest fashion among the Braavosi cortesans."  
Arya had shifted ever so slightly so that the black clock draped open before her, showcasing the diaphanous dress she wore, the pale grey blue shade made her pale skin almost glow. The fabric gathered thicker across her bust but Gendry was positive in this light he could make out the faint color of her… no. He wasn’t seeing that, was he?  
"It's fucking see through Arya! I can…. They can see almost everything!"

"That would be the point Gendry, yes. Its certainly not my hair that will get them talking."


	5. Master of the House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya gets her network of information started and runs into an old acquaintance, later Arya and Gendry get somethings out in the open, and Jon has an interesting meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is over a week late, but its been a rough couple of weeks mental health and just plain health wise. Hope everyone had a good and restful holliday, and Happy New Year Yall!

The sun was almost completely beyond the edge of the sea when Arya slipped into the brothel sending a small smile towards the men along the wall near the doorway, all seemingly drunk but stone sober in truth. Men who were employed to see to the safety of the ladies within and to help remind the male patrons of their place, not that anyone with half a brain was willing to risk offending the Courtesans of the Happy Port. They were the gatekeepers to the famously exclusive brothels nearer to the Sea Lord's palace where the true power moves across Essos could be planned and where a person could negotiate themselves into the funds to say raise a fleet to carry thousands of Dothraki across the sea to Westeros. Mercedene wasn't necessarily one of those women, but enough of them liked her that she was left alone for the most part, it was well known amongst the regular patrons that she didn't entertain anyone beyond a drink and a good story. Mercedne was always up for a jape or to give a man company over a cup or two of ale, or woman for that matter, but for anything beyond that she would be able to recommend which of the ladies of the establishment would best suit your needs. The only one better at matching a patron to his sin of the night was the madam of the brothel, Lady Kamari.

Kamari was fond of Mercedene, and had been more than willing to allow the girl to serve drinks and provide company for her patrons from time to time, but only after The Black Pearl had personally introduced her young "apprentice", stating she had been traumatized early on and that anything related to fucking would simply end in a mess and a Mercedene with no memory of the event. Kamari never questioned it, she valued her position too much, and the girl always brought the most interesting information and had a habit of dealing with troublesome patrons.

Like the drunken trio near the fireplace. A blue haired sellsword, a dwarf, and a balding man who brooded in a way he obviously thought was dashing. Poor Natira was stuck between the dwarf and the sell sword, and upon seeing Mercedene slip into the main room quickly made her excuses and fled to her friend's side. The two exchanged whispers, Mercedene's eyes running over the men and widening on one of them before a sharp smirk crossed her features.

_Ahhh, someone has crossed little Merc. She knows one of them quite well it would seem. It's been a bit to quiet around here, but I do hope she takes the bloodshed outside._

As the dwarf downed yet another full goblet of the expensive Lyseni spirit, Mercedene her way to the table and made themselves comfortable. The balding man jerked back from Merc, eyes staring at her hard.

"Your from the North."

Mercedene's eyes never left the dwarf's face.

"Well spotted. Mormont. Nice little bear on your chest piece there. Thought those who were expelled from their families had to give up the family symbol."

The dwarf called for a song, and once a lively tune was struck groped his little arms around the waist of the woman beside him, attempted to cajole her into a dance. Mercedene poured him another goblet of wine and topped off the goblets of everyone at the table. All three men drank the goblets dry. The dwarf quickly found himself spinning around the room with Mercedene holding him tightly in her arms. The atmosphere was getting more raucous than usual, however it wasn't anything they couldn’t handle, and frankly this boded well for the house. Drunk patrons paid and tipped very well, and the ladies had next to no work for the night Kamari added water to the wine to make up the weight of a half full jar as she noticed some of the girls picking up tier patrons knickknacks when they couldn't see straight while some of the newer girls led the group in a noisy tavern song. Natira had disappeared for a few moments, followed by several of the other girls, all with a look of determination on their faces and small nods towards Mercedene who nodded softly in return.

At one point the drunken dwarf and the equally drunk sell sword roused the other patrons into a toast for Kamari where she sat wiping down glasses behind the bar.

The balding man's eyes never left Mercedene, and her's never strayed far from the dwarf. As the crowd began to disperse, or to rent out a room for some fun or to simply sleep off their drink, Mercedene made sure to offer to escort the trio to where they were staying as it was 'ever so close to her own abode'. Once out the door, two men flanked them and shoved the sell sword and the bald man against the wall with knives at their throats. Mercedene had a small knife held against the dwarf's inner thigh.

"Hello Tyrion Lannister."

"Hello, and with who's knife am I being rather intimately acquainted with? Its exceedingly sharp and near a limb I rather enjoy having intact."

The bald man's eyes widened almost comically at the sound of a growl echoing through the night.

""You look like a Stark. It's been bothering me all night."

Tyrion's eyes narrowed as he peered at her.

"Fuck me it's her. The missing Stark girl.The ghost of her aunt come back to haunt us all."

Arya smiled as she leaned in closer to Tyrion's ear.

"Oh I am no ghost Lord Lannister. I am much much worse."

__________________

As the sun rose again, Arya slipped back into the Red Temple. She smiled softly at the sight of both Gendry and Ser Davos asleep near the low fire closest to the entrance. They had waited for her obviously. Arya sighed and headed for the small antechamber where she could hear water being added to a tub for her, Athuz having seen her making her way back. A good scrub and soak in the hot water relaxed her entirely.

After dropping the extremely inebriated trio at their room for the night, and asking one of her more questionable associates to ensure that they found their way to a location of her choice once sobered and awake, Arya had started back to the temple.

She remembered Tyrion's habit for drink from her childhood trip to King Landing. She also remember he used to be whip smart and something of a sarcastic braggart. In fact she was counting on it, since his balding companion wore the Mormont bear stitched onto the inner sleeve of his tunic, and the males of house Mormont numbered at two last she had heard. One in Essos and one on the Wall. If her suspicions were correct she would have first hand accounts of the Targaryen queen and some account of what happened to her sister.

Scrubbing the smells of the Brothel and the left over face paint away, Arya made quick work of washing her short hair. She fingered the ends of the fringe, considering cutting it shorter again. A nock at the door pulled her from her musings as she slipped beneath the water and called for the person to enter. Rickon poked his head in, and looked around quickly, he looked stressed but as soon as he saw her his blue eyes lit up.

"You okay?"

Arya smiled.

"I'm fine Rick, just getting cleaned up. Everything alright here?"

"Your blacksmith is gonna make me a dagger!"

Arya rolled her eyes at the excitement of his voice.

"I would trust no one else to arm my baby brother. Gendry is an incredible armorer but his weaponry is excellent. At least it was when we were younger. I'll have to make sure its up to par."

"He was worried about you. Spent all night muttering at the fire and polishing weapons."

Just like Father… and Jon.

"Ill talk to him. He was asleep sitting up when I came in."

"You know him pretty well then? He didn’t seem happy with you little plan."

"No he wasn't, but to answer your other question. Yes, I've known him a very long time. I met him the day Father was killed. He… he was an absolute idiot and very nearly got us killed more than once. But he was solid, and constant. He never gave up on me, the only time he chose to leave me was when he thought I was safe and was going to be taken back to Robb and mother. I didn’t understand it then, I was… gods I don’t even really know what I was, but now? I can understand it. Gendry always put others welfare before his."

"He sounds like one of the wolves, protecting his pack."

"More like a stubborn idiot bull trying to defend his herd. But essentially yes. Now toss me a towel and shoo, before you see more of me than you ever wanted."

Rickon laughed and tossed a fire warmed towel towards her before leaving the room. She dried off quickly, applied more of the healing salve Athuz had laid out for her to the slowly fading scars on her torso, and dressed in a simple linin tunic and breeches along with a pair of soft leather boots. Normally she would go barefoot to allow for complete silence of movement, but today she had a feeling it wouldn’t be a good idea to surprise her companions.

Gendry was awake, and alone, when she returned to the main area of the temple. She took the empty seat beside him and stared quietly into the flames. She could feel the tension in him, and fought to keep an answer tension from rising in her own shoulders.

"Stop thinking so hard, you'll hurt yourself. Everything is fine by the way, we should have confirmation of some of the rumors by tonight."

Gendry snorted before turning his glare from the fire to her.

"Really now. Your little sources tell you that?"

"No my sources know what I need to know and they'll get that for me. Now tell me what's got you so mad."

"Who said I was mad?"

Arya rolled her eyes and smirked at him.

"Your body is screaming it Gendry. I've been well trained in how to read the smallest movement of someone's body and how to use what it tells me. Now out with it."

"Well trained huh? Exactly what have you been well trained in then? While we were tearing the Riverlands apart looking for you, you were off here 'training in the brothel' and learning to read a man's body is that it?"

"Partly yes. And poisons, and how to kill, how to see with no eyes, how to fight when blind and bleeding, and where the organs are, how to lie so well even the gods couldn't tell, and how to forget."

Gendry jerked at the cold way she described what she had endured.

"I was essentially tortured Gendry, they wanted Arya Stark dead and to turn what was left into a weapon. But you know Arya Stark is too stubborn to die."

Gendry was silent for a moment before standing to slam his fist into the wall above the fireplace.

"We thought you were dead Arya! We all did! Why did you run? You were going back to your family, why the hell did you run?"

A question she had asked herself many times since that night, and no excuse she gave ever made sense to her. So she answered with the truth.

"I was two and fucking ten, give or take Gendry! Every time I turned around I was being captured, or we were starving, or being threatened with rape and torture or losing yet another person I loved. I was stretched as far as I could stretch and that night I snapped. So yes! Yes I ran into the fucking woods to get some of it out, I realized I was being stupid and was already coming back when that jackass cracked me over the head and took off with me. But I was a fucking child, so I am fucking sorry I didn't process any of it well!"

Gendry rounded on her, huffing so much like the bull he favored.

"Then why didn't you come back? Why didn't you come back to me!?"

Arya responded like a wolf backed into a corner.

"How the fuck was I supposed to do that? I had no idea where the hell I was, No idea where the brotherhood was, and there was a Lannister and Frey Army between me and where I had last seen you. And yes I was still pissed you chose them over me! I couldn't go back, I would have never found you and I'd have been killed or worse. All I had was the coin. I didn't choose Jaqen over you. I chose the only option I had that didn't end in my immediate death, rape or dismemberment!"

Gendry deflated almost instantly. _He really believed I chose the Faceless over him?_

Arya sat back down in her chair and motioned for him to do the same, and smiled when Gendry dropped into the seat as though carrying the weight of a dragon on his shoulders.

"I'm sorry that I couldn’t find my way back to you. I'm not sorry about what I learned with the Guild nor am I sorry about using it to protect my family. I learned, I survived, and came across some people who will either give us good information or will be worth quite a lot to interested parties."

Gendry drug his hands over his face, at the mention of the information his face started to turn red again in what Arya assumed could only be embarrassment at the memory of her going into the brothel.

"I'm sorry I was so flippant about going to the brothel, I remember how uncomfortable you were with them when we were younger. I knew we needed concrete information and we needed it quickly, the brothel and the ladies there are the best way to get it."

"Arya. I'm not upset about you going into the brothel, well I am, but I'm fucking furious you went in there alone and none of us knew when or if you would come back. Your baby brother just got you back, you’ve been fucking sick for weeks according to Davos, and you were attacked by a crazed former assassin THAT FUCKING MORNING. Then before your brother or any of us can assess things you swan off to get information from a brothel. Alone. In a city none of us are familiar with, and knowing that if you needed help we would be useless. And as for your skills you talk of so much, we'd been in the same room for a total of a few hours at that point. How the fuck would I know what kind of skills you've picked up! Rickon just got you back Arya. I just got you back, and I am man enough to admit I cannot lose you again."

His blue eyes watered slightly as he stared at her.

"I've blamed myself for years for your death, your rape, for a thousand horrors I could imagine you suffering. I blamed myself for every damn one. I really believed you would be safer without me, that they would take you to your brother and your mother and you would be safe back in the North, and I would have never seen you again. I was selfish, I didn’t want to see you walk away, so I tried to first. But that night…. Arya I searched for you until dawn. Anguy had to drag me back to make me eat sometime before I stole a horse and took off again. I searched for two days before they knocked me out to get some sleep. We found a ferry boat captain that described the Hound and a grubby little boy he had taken across. Then we heard news of the Twins, and Beric ordered us to head straight for it, he believed you would be there either dead or alive."

"I was there that night. We got there right as it started, I think I tried to run inside, I could hear mother screaming. The hound knocked me over the head again, I saw Grey Wind fighting in the kennel they had him in. I woke up on his horse, Clegane tried to keep me from seeing what they had done to Robb. Just like Yoren did when father died, but he couldn’t stop it. I saw my big brother's body, still bleeding, with his direwolf's head sewn to his shoulders. Clegane got me out of there alive. I'll give him that. He could have very easily sold me to the Frey's or to the traitor norther families, but he didn't. He still tried to get me to somewhere safe, to family. And I left him for dead on the side of the road, after I took his horse and his gold."

"Arya, you need to know what we found. We didn't make it all the way to the Twins. We made it to the rivers outside, this huge pack of wolves were blocking us. Forced us to go along the river to get around them. We found a massive wolf just sitting on the banks and staring at the water. Just sitting there, and we weren't being quiet, and when she turned to look at us it was like she was assessing our very souls. She stared at me, at Thoros, and Beric, before she stood and walked away. When we got close to where she had been, that’s when we found her. We found your mother's body. Harwin confirmed it was her. Beric and Harwin begged Thoros to bring her back, but he refused. She'd been in the water for three days. Beric didn’t care."

Arya sighed and looked at the flames.

  
"Beric brought her back. Gave her a kiss and as she rose he fell."

Gendry blinked at her.

"You knew?"

"Yes I knew. And no the Guild didn't tell me. I dreamed it, exactly like you said, only I was the wolf. It was just before I left the Hound I think. I dreamed of finding her, pulling her out of the water, and just… waiting. I knew someone I could trust with her was coming. I dreamed of seeing her rise from the woods. I still dream I am that wolf , when I would get to close to losing Arya the dreams would start again. I would see my brother's wolves, Ghost and Shaggydog. I would run around the Inn where Hotpie is, but not matter how many times I ran through the places the Brotherhood would camp I could never find you."

"Inn at the Crossroads, it was the last place we could confirm you had been seen. I just kind of.. Stayed. Guess I always hoped you'd wander back through. The women there, Jeyne and Willow, reminded me of you. Feisty and with a habit of collecting orphans. I swear I even saw Weasel at one point. I kind of joked with Harwin that maybe one day we would have collected enough orphans and you would simply appear and take over like you always do."

Arya laughed and smiled. The tension finally easing out of the pair as they talked about silly things from the past.

Jon Snow had no idea what to make of the group before him. The eldest surviving daughter of House Mormont and a fucking Tyrell were sitting in his solar being charmed by Satin. And Jon? Jon was sitting in a corner staring at Robb Stark's fucking final will and testament. He knew that hand writing, it was Robb's unquestionably. And what it contained shook him. Sansa disinherited, Arya not even mentioned, himself legitimized and stuck in the succession if the boys were truly dead.

"Why are you here Tyrell. Your sister is married to the king. Your brother was the lover of one of the contenders to the throne."

"Allegedly that is."

Satin was always quick to smooth over Jon's rough edges, to prevent any issues. Skills that came in handy more and more frequently. It made Jon feel a little more at ease, he had no idea how Satin did it, but the man always knew what Jon needed before he did. He liked that about the man, he liked a lot about him to be honest.

"I'm here Stark, because I was sent word by my grandmother that wasn't to be trusted to a bird or a maester. Ramsay Bolton knows his wife is not Arya Stark. He's always known. Roose Bolton hadn't ever seen her its true, but no one knows of a Stark with brown eyes. It was all over the north that the girl was the only one with the Stark eyes, when all of her trueborn siblings had Tully blue. The girl they married off, her eyes are brown and her hair is the color of mud. Not the dark color she was said to possess. Her fathers coloring, and your own. Ramsay has no legitimate claim to Winterfell and he knows it."

Lady Alysane Mormont stood and moved over to Jon.

"Robb left Arya off the will for a reason Jon. As far as he knew she was killed the day Ned Stark died. There were rumors a girl matching her looks was found in the crowd and drug away by some men. They found a highborn girls clothes burning in a braiser and clumps of hastily shorn hair in a back alley. Robb secretly held out hope she was alive, but he knew that if the Lannister's had her, they would use her against him the same as they tried to use Sansa. Arya was both the most wanted person in the south and the safest. Robb said she had an uncanny ability to simply vanish if she wanted to, only to reappear when it suited her best or could cause the most mischief."

Jon shook his head a soft smile on his lips.

"Lord Ramsay knows he didn't have the real Arya, Cersei sent a fake. I remember how she hated how the King would fawn over Arya during their visit. Too jealous of a ghost to make sure she kept one of the keys to the north alive. That still doesn’t tell me what a southern Rose is doing up here."

Garlan stood and walked over closer to the fire.

"Willas and I are sick of our Grandmother trying to marry us to the throne. She is determined to see Margaery seated on the throne, no matter what crazed idiot she has to marry to do so. And if she can't seduce her way there, she's counting on Loras to do so. Westeros is collapsing from the inside my Lord. And with the rumors of Dragons returning, Willas and I agree that its high time we start negotiating amongst ourselves. You need food, we can provide it. We need pelts and cold weather goods, the North's specialties. You Lord Stark, get used to it, are the closest thing to a true Warden the North has, and when the dragon returns I think it would bode well for the two most useful parts of Westeros to present a united front of loyalty to a woman with lizards that can roast us all alive."

"You make a compelling argument Lord Tyrell, now for all your information what can you tell me about the fate of Robb's child."


	6. Waltz of Treachery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya, Thoros and Davos have a meeting with a lion, a bear and an idiot, Gendry let's Rickon play with sharp objects, and a Stone protects a baby bird. Also Weasel!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is up a bit late, but well here it is.
> 
> Also I am keeping to the show's aspect of Arya serving Twin for the most part while at Harrenhal. I'm not having her serve the Boltons.
> 
> I'm also taking a few liberties with how sneaky she was as a child, but then again this is my story so yeah.

Mya Stone laughed softly at something Alayne had said regarding SweetRobin's latest tantrum. The boy had inexplicably been feeling better over recent days, and with his improving health the little shits behavoir declined.

Lord Arryn would be so shamed to see his house reduced… to this. A sniveling brat dancing to Lord Baelish's tune and a pretty lady playing the bastard.

Mya quietly excused herself to retrieve another jug of wine, making sure to take the long way. Lord Baelish nodded to her as he entered the solar she had left. Mya made sure to take the long route to the wine stores and back, hovering outside the doorway.

"Tomorrow morning then? I have enough left for one large dose to end it. I've heard the maids talking about how people seemed to improve so greatly just before succumbing to their illness."

"Yes a phenomenon I have heard of frequently. I trust you to take care of it my love."

Mya coughed and entered the room loudly.

"Looks like the last of the Arbor Gold Alayne. I'm going on a supply run tomorrow so you shan't be without for long."

"Oh Mya you are too sweet to me, my friend."

"Well us Stone's must stick together."

Lord Baelish quickly excused himself, ignoring Mya's presence entirely as she poured Alayne another goblet of the sweet gold wine while the woman held her embroidery up to the sunlight.

* * *

Arya, Thoros and Davos were walking around the market looking at everything and nothing as the sun climbed higher into the sky . Arya would pause frequently as a woman passed and would lean in for a whisper. Only once had the exchanges taken more than just a moment, a stunning dark skinned woman had looped arms with the Westerosi woman to walk a short way the conversation flowing in a language neither man understood. A man had at one point approached Davos and handed him a bag before disappearing in the crowd. Once Arya's conversation with the woman had ended they separated and moved in opposite directions as if they had never spoken.

As she approached the very confused Davos a child ran up to her.

"Cat! They're awake! Lady Kamari is keeping them in her solar for you. A man from the iron bank is seeking the blue one!"

" Is he now? Interesting. Thank you little one." She produced a small gold coin and sent the child off running.

Thoros smiled as he watched and almost laughed at her exasperated expression.

"You truly do have contacts everywhere don't you?"

Arya shrugged and smiled softly.

"No one sees the children. The orphans. My network is no different than Lord Varys or Lord Baelish's rumored 'little birds' only mine aren't tortured or forced into it. Many are just orphans or have smaller siblings they wish to care for. I help where I can and they earn the money instead of stealing. There is no wall here, one childish theft could end a child's life. Doing a bit of shopping Ser Davos?"

The old man shook his head and moved to open the sack.

"No a man came out of that stall there and shoved this into my hands. Said for me to ' tell him I'm sorry' and disappeared. Bags damn heavy though."

Inside were one large book and a much smaller tome wrapped in leather along with the head of what looked like a war hammer and a blacksmiths hammer. There was a small stick of metal that looked almost like a rivet.

"That's odd. We'll see what Gendry makes of the hammers. But first we have a meeting to attend. Shall we?"

The trio moved back towards the happy port. Kamari was waiting for them by the door.

"Upstairs. I'll have food sent up."

Arya nodded and guided the two men up a hidden set of stairs and into a room where Dario Naharis was face first on the table and Tyrion and the Mormont were bouncing things off the mans head. Arya squared her shoulders and looked at the men's postures, she knew this would be the most important dance she ever preformed. They all had a chance at gaining everything, and an even bigger chance of losing it all. She could only hope her intended dance partner still possessed half the intelligence she had seen as a child.

"Ah Lady Stark. I assume you are our hostess or captor as it may be."

"As you like Lord Lannister, but I am no lady. I am however curious as to how the brother of the queen find himself in the company of a man banished not only from the north but from the side of the Daenerys Targaryen as well, and a former commander of the Second Sons who has been wracking up a quite frankly stunning debt in the so called Dragon Queens name?"

To his credit Tyrion's jaw didn't immediately drop, but he did choke a teeny bit upon inhaling his drink.

" And how does a girl half the world believes dead and the other believes to be sold off the Bolton's, come across all of that information with in hours of meeting us in the middle of drunken revels?"

Arya smirked as the politician squirmed, she knew it was driving him mad not to be able to anticipate her maneuvers. For all that he hated the dwarf, Tyrion was by far the one most like Tywin. He enjoyed being the smartest in the room.

"I have many sources my lord and they know the cost of lies and what they stand to gain from me. The question is, do you?"

Tyrion chuckled and sent a sharp smirk at Arya as he began to pour another goblet full of the amber liquid. Amber, not the crimson the man had favored.

"Cider my Lord? Thought wine was your preference. Although I can admit having you all sober will make this far easier than I had anticipated. Shall I introduce my companions or do you recognize them from your days at King Robert's court?"

"Ser Davos Seaworth, late in the service of the pretender Stannis Baratheon, and Thoros of Myr, thought to be long dead in the middle of no where. No one has seen you in years man."

Thoros cleared his throat and waved away the offer of a goblet of cider, pulling his water skin out from his freshly cleaned robes.

"Followed Beric Dondarrion when Lord Stark sent him after the Mountain. I believed there was a purpose to being out there with him. Damned if I wasn't partially right this time."

Davos remained quiet, his eyes watching the sell sword and the northerner intently. Arya spun her attention to the glaring man as well, staring intently at the small head of a bear stitched into the mans filthy jerkin.

"And you a man of House Mormont running about with a disgraced lion. Tell me Ser Jorah, why do you seem to think the Targaryen simply wont roast you alive for attempting to return to her side? My understanding is that you were informing on her to the late Kings Small council. I remember hearing my father rant about it to the captain of our guard, that is before Lord Lannister's brother murdered him in the street."

"I'm bringing her Tyrion, and I have called in some contacts to pay off the debt this imbecile has been wracking up here in Braavos. Naharis was supposed to be negotiating for the purchase of ships. All he's actually paid for is whores. I am hoping my Queen will be merciful."

Arya nodded and looked the sell sword up and down as he stared at her intently, his face arranged in a expression she was sure he considered enticing. He just looked constipated.

" I see. Dario Naharis is it? I've been told that you've attempted to gain access to the brothels near the Sea Lords palace several times only to have been banned from just about every establishment in the city. You seek ships and aid for you queen, and yet you spend anything you get in her name for pleasures and are attempting to secure a loan that neither one of you can pay. Or were you planning to simply add it to already obscene debt owed by the Red Keep?"

Naharis leaned closer, his eyes never moving from Arya's chest.

"Now how exactly would a lovely creature like you get that information? I love my queen dearly and would never tarnish her name so. But enough of these boring matters, what would I need to do to get into the good graces of such a lovely thing as yourself."

Arya rolled her eyes.

"Seriously? She sent you? I had heard the woman was intelligent. Mormont, you say you want back into the Dragon queens good graces yes? I am willing to help you with this, I want to meet with her. I have heard many rumors to her power and character and I wish to know for myself the truth. I will arrange a meeting with someone I know from the Iron Bank. In return you will work to arrange a meeting between us. We are not our fathers and I have a feeling we could be useful to each others cause."

Jorah sat up a bit straighter.

"Why would you wish to support her? The Starks supported the Baratheon's in the destruction of House Targaryen. Your houses loyalty should be with the crown."

Arya scoffed and waved her hand in the air.

"Lies to cover for Robert Baratheon's shame, and my father's loyalty to that oaf is what cost him his life. My father went to war to save his little sister. His father and brother had gone to request her return only to be publicly tortured and murdered by a madman whom Prince Rhaegar wasn't willing to step up and depose. Instead of seeing to the safety of his realm, the Crowned Prince, a man grown with a beloved wife and child with another on the way, was too busy seducing my four and ten year old aunt. My Father loved Rhaegar, but he loved Lyanna more. My father also abandoned his dearest friend because of his whoreing ways while declaring his love for my aunt to all and sundry. The final straw was the murder of Rhaeneys and Aegon. You knew my father Ser Jorah. How do you think he would have reacted to his closest ally, his only surviving brother, not only condoning but exulting in the murder of children? My father threw the Hand of the King position in Robert's face over sending assassins after your pretty little queen. And I will ask you, if dear late King Robert actually gave a damn about my aunt, why did he get to Kings Landing and stop? Why did my father go, with only Lord Howland Reed, to Dorne?"

Tyrion jerked up in his seat.

"How do you know this girl? No one knows about what happened between Robert and Ned all those years ago. And your father was to honorable to disclose why he walked away from his position of the Hand."

"I've always been very good at listening at doors my lord. I spent many days chasing cats and those creatures favored the dark and empty passages around the council chambers. I also know who my father was. He drew the line at harming children, he always did. It wasn't hard to put together overhearing the mention of an assassin being sent to Essos for her and my father's immediate order to pack to leave Kings Landing. Now Ser Jorah, do we have an agreement?"

Jorah say back in his chair almost stunned. Eddard Stark's loyalty to Robert Baratheon was legend, but to hear from his daughter what no one had ever been willing to even think was jarring. Yet it made sense. He nodded to the young girl, she was a fierce thing. Blood of the Wolf for true. Arya nodded in return and sat back in her seat.

"Now for you Tyrion Lannister. Tell me what you know of my sister Sansa."

Tyrion had the courtesy to look somewhat shamed.

"She left me to die in the capital on false charges of my idiotic nephew's murder."

"Good for her."

* * *

Gendry watched Rickon as he tested out several daggers in the small armory that belonged to the Temple guards to see what felt right in his hand and all he could think about was the boys similarities to his elder sister. The Armor smith could only imagine how long it took their brother to decide on Needle for her, and how much of an influence the Winterfell blacksmith had been on that decision, as the boy flitted from handle to handle and grip to grip. Arya had given him explicit instructions on what to make for him. Something that would be as useful to him as Needle was to her, something that would be his main weapon for the moment but his backup for when he's older. No pressure.

He noticed the boys eyes kept drifting towards some of the axes the Temple guards had on display, he watched how the boy moved. He would do well with an axe, long arms, strong torso and shoulders, he would do very well with one. He wasn't as agile at Arya was, he wasn't built to be. Rickon was built for power, whereas Arya was built for speed. He knew that their father and elder brother had both used a longsword, but with what he had seen about Rickon had shown him the boy would want to be much closer to his target than a longsword would allow.

Rickon turned holding a long knife with a slightly curved blade and smiled.

"This one."

Gendry nodded and moved to the axes, looked at them for a moment before nodding and picking up one.

"How's this feel?"

He'd make the boy the dagger. After he made the axe.

* * *

Sansa wasn't running, ladies didn't run. Sansa was walking briskly in the predawn light towards Lord Baelish's room. Sweetrobin was missing.

She had gone to wake the boy for his morning medicines only to find the bed empty, all of his things untouched, the bed cold and unslept in.

She knocked on the door and called his name. Petyr opened the door a moment later, in his pants and an open shirt, his hair un combed and shoeless. He jerked the girl into the room looing both ways down the hall to ensure no one had seen her arrival.

"What are you doing dear girl? You know better than to come to a man's chamber alone and this early."

"Robin is gone. I put him to bed last night, and when I went in to get him up this morning his room was empty. The bed is stone cold, he's been gone for a while."

Petyr paled slightly.

"How… odd. Lord Hardying left early this morning, long before dawn I believe. His entourage followed your little friend across the pass to the main roads." He stared at a spot on the wall for a moment before standing and striding to open the door for her. "Pack you things my dear. I think its time we headed for my holdings in the Fingers. It's been far to long since I've been home."

* * *

Mya tried not to look over her shoulder constantly. She would tuck the blankets around the lump in her cart a bit tighter each time. They were far past the wind of the passes, leaving so soon after the child was put to bed had given her enough time to make put distance between herself and the Eryie. In the back of her mind she prayed to the seven that Lord Arryn would forgive her for this. As the dawn began to break a small Inn came into view, small curls of smoke just starting to rise from the chimney's as some older children trudged out to what she knew to be a small barn.

As she came closer, a young girl was sitting by the front door combing a pile of wool. Small thing, she was at least one if now two name days younger than the lump behind her.

"Good Morrow little one. I'm seeking the Inn at the Crossroads."

"You’ve found it."

"The Lady about with her men?"

"Aye and The Fish. Who's looking for them?"

"Just a common bastard girl with a gift for the Lady."

The door to the inn opened and a young woman stepped out.

"A gift for the Lady? What could a dead woman want?"

Mya flipped the blankets aside.

"The Blackfish's nephew."

The young woman looked over the now shivering child in the wagon for a moment.

"Weasel, Harwin's sleeping out in the forge. Go get him."

The girl dropped the wool and took off at a run.

* * *

The meeting had lasted well into the night, negotiating and trading information. And more than a few threats if Naharis didn’t stop talking to her chest. Both Tyrion and Arya wrote down any offer that was made or accepted, much to Thoros' amusement. As the sky started to lighten the exhausted trio made their way back towards the Temple of R'hollor. Arya had promised to meet Ser Jorah and Tyrion at midday to escort them to talk to the right people. As they entered the temple, Rickon came running out and threw his arms tightly around his sister's waist.

"Stop leaving at night. I don't like it Aya."

Her arms wrapped tightly around his little shoulders.

"I wish I could tell you it’s the last time I will have to sweet brother, but I will not lie to you. But I can promise you I won't be going alone. I had Ser Davos and Thoros with me, they kept me safe."

The two men chuckled at the thought that they were there to protect the former assassin. Gendry ambled out behind him, his shaggy black hair mussed, with an equally rumpled Anguy following behind.

"It go how you planned?"

Arya sighed and accepted a hug from her friend, her baby brother still attached to her waist.

"Better. The only one with any sort of intelligence is Tyrion Lannister, Jorah is borderline obsessed with Daenerys Targaryen and is desperate to get back into her good graces. Dario Naharis is a snake. I'm going to need your help later today."

"Done, tell me what you need."

"I need you to clean up and look like your father. I need you to look like a Baratheon."

Davos smiled softly at the shocked look on the boys face.

"Counting on being sold out already? I will admit I doubted making any deal with Daario Naharis would have any benefit."

"I agree, especially after he spent the day talking to my breasts. No I need us to be a very tasty prize for him to deliver to his queen. Two Starks, the missing girl and an actual Heir, along with one of the last remaining Baratheon bastards, possibly the oldest male one. Add to that you Ser Davos with your ties to Stannis. We make a pretty little package for him to deliver."

"So we're bait?"

"In a sense yes. My friend in the Iron Bank will be meeting with us tomorrow, but he already working for me. He paid a visit to a young woman near the docks today to deliver her the funds to join her family in Mereen. It's also very likely he gave her gave copies of all of Naharis' spending and attempts to secure funds, along with what funds he has received and exactly how those funds were spent. I also sent along a note to the effect of 'I am not my father and neither are you. Westros needs her true leader'. I think that will at least catch her attention."

Thoros looked at the girl.

"You think she's the true ruler? You think she's the right leader?"

"I think she will be better than Cersei Lannister. Although at this point a potato would be better than that insane witch."

"So you what? Sold out her sell sword before he could sell us out?"

"Exactly."

______

Bran Stark opened his eyes from his place curled up with Summer.

"Meera. It's time to head south. It's time for us to reunite with our families."

Meera smiled softly and nodded.


	7. Look Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of Traveling, some introspections and conversations. A turncloak faces a bastard, and a lost wolf winds a pack mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what happens when I lose characters, I have to shove them in places a bit differently than I had planned.  
> Please enjoy!

Arya sat tucked into the bow of the ship letting the wind ruffle her short hair, she had cut it again before they set sail for Mereen commenting that the weather was even hotter there than in Braavos. Unsurprisingly Gendry had followed suit and Rickon had allowed a minor trim to his auburn curls. It was more manageable and no longer appeared that a small animal was attempting to make a meal out of his head, and as Arya had pointed out if he wanted to fight something he needed to be able to see it.

Taming Rickon's wild curls hadn't been the most amusing thing to get finished before they sailed. No that had been getting Gendry outfitted like the lords he so despised. For all that he cared about Arya and wanting to help her family, Gendry still had a deep and abiding disdain, if not an outright hatred, for the highborn class. Arya remembered all to well the mocking tone behind many a "M'lady" during their trek through the Riverlands. Gendry was among the first to discount a person based on how much they flashed about their lofty birth, and delighted in being able to dole out doses of humility. According to Anguy any orphan who came their way boasting of being a highborn child was sent straight to the forges to learn the meaning of the word humility.

Which is why it amused both Anguy and Arya to no end, to watch the seamstress' Davos hired measure and poke and pin Gendry every which way but lose. His expression of horror when the woman demanded he strip to the skin to be fitted for fine silken underthings was one of abject terror. Gendry, strong angry Gendry, was afraid of silken smallclothes. Add to that the fact that it was all tight, fitted well to show off the muscles that his trade and past of combat had equipped him with. Uncomfortably tight across his broad shoulders and thick arms, not enough to hamper his movement but a stark contrast to the loose linen he was used to; tight collars and pants that he was absolutely certain had not required the amount of measuring that the seamstress had done there, much to Arya's gasping delight, left Gendry feeling both claustrophobic and also very exposed.

Arya thought he looked like a lord. Gendry thought he looked like an idiot. Davos and Thoros thought the three looked like ghosts. Rickon was just mad Arya made him take a bath.

Arya had wrestled Rickon into the seamstress' rooms for a few quick measurements of his own. Having wrestled his pelts away, Arya had them cleaned and sewn into a cloak for him as a way to keep Osha close to him while not looking like a rabid dog. Both of them were shocked at how boldly Arya and Davos both had asked the seamstress' to embroider their house sigils, Gendry loudly and frequently reminding them that he was not an acknowledged bastard therefore had no right to the stag now dotting the fine black shirts. Arya waved him off and ignored him, bidding the seamstress' to finish their work.

Davos had also received a set of clothes, not from the seamstress' however, his came on a boat from Westeros. A small package wrapped in a black bit of fabric with a white onion sewn to it had been delivered to Sallador Saan days before they were due to depart. Davos had glanced over the short, and rather scathing note, from his wife before smiling and going to get cleaned up himself before sending a note back with his friend.

It had only been a few weeks after the little meeting when a messenger had appeared bearing a sealed parchment with a dragon pressed into the blood red wax. A dragon with three heads. Ser Jorah had brooded for a week that it had been sent to her and not to him. Arya had shooed him off to another meeting with her contact within the Iron Bank, knowing that the man's northern temper was growing short and she was not looking forward to the conflict when it did. The note had been surprising to say the least, knowing that a former knight of the Kingsguard had spoken for her was even more so.

Arya had gone over the letter to many times in the weeks it took to prepare for their departure that she knew it almost by memory.

~ **Lady Arya,**

**I thank you for bringing the actions of my representative to my attention. Your messenger speaks very highly of you for helping her family. I have heard rumors of an assassin helping the innocent make their way to a new life in the South, one of dark eyes and sharp bite. I do wonder at your reaching out to me. I am intrigued. Added to which one of the few I have grown to trust deeply has spoken in your favor. Ser Barristan Selmy, has told me about what he can remember of you. I have no reason to trust you, nor for you to trust me. However I also do not have a reason not to trust you, your family destroyed mine. Your father was the terror of my nightmares.**

**Yet you are right. We are not our fathers, let us women see if we can reach an accord of some sort. Come to Mereen, I will extend you and your companions my protection. Ser Jorah will be allowed to return as well provided that he can control himself. As for the Lion. I leave that up to you, Ser Barristan has told me that while the man is a drunkard he is a cunning creature. I know your younger brother travels with you, I once had a brother as well, and I can only hope you are a better elder sibling to him than mine was.**

**I look forward to meeting the face of my nightmares.**

**Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, The rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, Queen of Dragonstone, Queen of Meereen, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons,regent of the realm**

_Of course she was raised to fear us, our fathers drove her from her home. Then Robert sent assassins after mere children simply because my Aunt said No and the prince couldn’t keep it in his pants._

Arya leaned her head back against the railing once more and returned to oiling Needle as both Rickon and Gendry joined her. Rickon gently drawing a small whetstone along the edge of one axe, while Gendry began to polish the wrought iron antlers that graced either side of his Warhammer. The head of which had belonged to the family of his father, Robert Baratheon, and had been sent to him in a bag by his former master, Tobho Mott.

\-------

Daenerys leaned back against the headboard of her bed allowing the sheet to pool around her waist, watching as Asha walked over to stand by the open window enjoying the breeze.

"Do you think I am being foolish? Inviting the Stark girl here? My informants tell me one of the men with her has a sudden abundance of antlers about him."

Asha turned and smirked at her.

"Never met the girl. Theon would write about her from time to time when he would send word. Mentioned her a few times once he came back to Pyke. Said she was a vicious little thing, but smart, always getting into trouble for making the wrong sort of friends and playing with those beneath her. Apparently she adored her bastard brother, but Theon thought was because of the looks. I remember him saying she was the only one out of the moronic pack that wasn’t red haired and blue eyed. Apparently the girl and the bastard both took after the father. Seems like the older girl tormented her because of her coloring, and from the way Theon talked about them, everything else about the girl."

Dany nodded.

"Barristan said her father was among the most honorable men he ever knew, that he was furious with the Usurper for what he did to my niece and nephew, what he tried to do to me. Said the only time he ever saw the two men fight was over what the Lannister's did to Rhaneys, Aegon and Elia, and then again over Stark finding out that they had sent assassins after me. Sounded as though this girl was a thorn in several of the palace guards sides, always running about the hidden corridors, popping up out of shadows. Apparently Cersei hated her, she was the exact opposite of her sister. From what he knew of her, Barristan says she was fierce and protective, she was last seen in a sword fighting lesson when Meryn Trant was sent to 'collect' her. No one has officially seen her since, although I have heard whispers of her being all over the Riverlands, and even sold back up north. For this girl to so boldly claim to be her is either extremely brave of extremely stupid. Either way this girl certainly sounds like she has had an interesting time of it. Barristan thinks she could prove useful when we retake Kings Landing, with how much time she spent running about the slums and getting on with the small folk who worked in the castle."

Asha walked back towards the bed, grabbing a cup of wine along the way.

"What other wise council has the great Ser Barristan provided? He has served under how many kings now?"

Daenerys rolled her eyes at the woman.

"Stop that. He's taught me more about my father and the Usurper's reigns than anyone else. I can only imagine it's gotten far worse under the Lion Queen. I know her little cub may sit on the throne now with his rose but, he's a child. Cersei controls the power. Barristan told me that the people were starving, there were riots for bread in the streets. The Lannister Armies had burned or ravaged the Riverlands and what little crop they managed to harvest was stolen. The winter is imminent and the people will need food. He thinks that is our way in, and I agree. A people that can feed their children, and keep warm during the snows will be a people who will see me to my throne. If we come baring enough food they may even deliver the Lioness to us. I think the one traveling with the Stark, the one who carries a hammer can be of use to me. Barristan told me Jon Arryn had met with a blacksmith in the slums who turned out to be the Usurper's bastard, Lord Stark was set to seek out the boy as well. If by some miracle this is that same boy, and he is as different from his father as I am from mine, perhaps he can help me understand what the people of Kings Landing need better than the Stark can. However at the same time, his sire killed my brother, his rightful Prince over the Stark woman's whore of an Aunt."

"So what are you going to do? Kill her or humor her, then kill her?"

Dany rolled her eyes.

"I'm not sure yet. I think her brother is with her so that should be interesting?"

"Thought they were all dead except the bastard at the Wall, though rumor has it he's dead as well. Or did he just up and take off?"

"According to the information I've been sent, its one of the little ones. The ones your brother supposedly killed and strung up on the walls of their family home."

Asha's face lost all of its color.

"The little ones survived?"

"So it seems."

"So Theon lied to me, and to the Boltons. They'll tear him to shreds if they get their hands on him. At least the last word I got was he was free of the Bolton and was heading for the coast."

~~~

Jon hadn't done anything more strenuous than some training in the courtyard since they took over East Watch. Tormund had poked fun at him endlessly for some time before Jon had grabbed Longclaw and shoved the fire kissed wildling into the training yard. That had ended in a bloody fist fight and both men on their backs. Satin had simply rolled his eyes and drug Jon back to his chambers to clean him up and patch up the new cuts and scrapes.

"So did you steal the boy or did he steal you?"

Jon blinked up from his meal and stared at Tormund.

" I haven't stolen anyone. Nor has anyone stolen me."

"Ah so he's free for the taking then? A couple of the girls, and one or two of the lads have their eye on him. Didn’t want to challenge a man back from the dead for him though. Shall I let them know?"

Jon didn’t respond, but his fist clenched on its own.

"No…"

Anything else he might have said was cut off by the man in question nearly running into the room with a wilding woman behind him.

"Jon, we've had word from Stannis. He's sent someone ahead of him that you might be interested in seeing."

"Whose that?"

"Your sister."

Jon was up and storming from the room with the wildlings and the squire hot on his heels.

Satin pointed him to the gate yard where two small figures were huddled hear a bonfire. Jon skidded to a stop at the sight of the man's face.

"Greyjoy."

Theon's head snapped up, eyes wide as he shifted the woman behind him. Their scars appearing silvery in the firelight glinting off the snow. The woman refused to look at him.

"Who is this then? Too short for Sansa and to broad in the shoulders I think to be Arya."

The woman jolted for a moment before straightening up.

"I am Arya Stark."

Jon slowly walked to the woman and shoved her hood back. Theon jerked and made to pull her back from the black expression on Jon's face.

"Time can change a lot about a person, but not their eyes. Do you really think six years is enough for me to forget my baby sister's eyes are grey? Do you think its long enough for me to remember my sisters hair is nearly black in color? Aye time can change alot about a person, but it cannot change that bone deep recognition of the only person who gave a damn about me before I left for the wall. I know you, and I know you are not my sister Jeyne Poole. And more importantly, Ramsay Snow knows."

The woman, Jeyne flinched, her brown eyes widening in fear.

"I…"

Jon held up a hand and shifted his gaze to the hunched creature behind her.

"Theon Greyjoy. I should kill you here and now for what you did to Robb. For what you did to Winterfell. Robb trusted you. The boys trusted and loved you. And you betrayed them. You killed two little boys and strung their corpses up as a trophy."

"Not.. I didn't…not"

"No, not Bran and Rickon. You just scared the hell out of them and ran them off from their home. Drove them into the wilds like animals, a small child and a crippled boy. You took everything from them."

"I didn’t kill them, but I'm the reason they're dead."

Theon jerked his eyes from the ground to Jon's face at the sound of the mans laugh and the sound of paws slowly padding up behind him. Theon didn't look, he had heard about Ghost and the other wolves eating those who crossed the Starks, it was no more than he deserved.

"They aren’t dead Theon. And that’s the only reason your still breathing. My little brothers are alive, and its their vengeance to exact on you. Not mine."

"How do you know?"

"Because Rickon is with Arya. And Bran is…"

Theon looked desperate.

"Bran is what? Is he alright?"

"Hello Theon Greyjoy."

Theon spun to look right into the yellow eyes and snarling maw of Summer, with Bran tied astride his back leaning against a young woman. A young man stood beside them carrying a small pack. All three looked sick and thin. Summer's coat was ragged and the animal was very thin, but his snarl was just as frightening as his littler mates had been when Robb had taken him into combat.

Theon fainted, Jeyne reaching out quickly to stop the man from falling into the fire.

Bran relaxed and the pair a top the wolf nearly fell into the snow, their companion was near to collapse as well.

"Satin! Tormund! Help me!"

Jon and the other two men scrambled forward to help the weak travelers. Two of the men who had left the Night's watch with them moved to help Jeyne and Theon. Jon bid them to take them to a warm room and let Jeyne know a Maester would attend them shortly along with a free folk healer. Jeyne nodded and didn't put up a fight as she was lead away. Lord Tyrell and Lady Mormont had joined them by now, with the former having to grab the latter by both arms to keep her from attacking the unconscious man.

"He betrayed Robb! How can you let him live Stark?!"

_Still not used to that._

"Because his life isn't mine to take, nor yours. It belongs to Bran and Rickon. I will leave it up to them. If I kill him it will be for revenge, if the boys do it will be justice. Now help me get Bran and the Reeds inside and someone find an elk for that wolf. He's starving."

"How d'ya know the other two are Reeds? And do we like them?" Tormund shifted the boy under his arm, the weak thing's feet barely touched the ground .

"The Lizard Lion on the womans leathers. And Yes we like them, my father always talked about being able to rely on Howland. Now help me get his children warm and fed. And where is the food for that wolf!"

Two wildlings hopped on horseback and took off with their bows, promising to return with food for the weak animal. Jon hefted Bran up in his arms, holding his baby brother closely against him and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"I've missed you little brother."

"And I, you. We can't kill Theon."

"I'm assuming you have a reason for that?"

"You need to send both him and Jeyne to Mereen. Marry them and send them off once they're strong enough."

Jon blinked down at his brother as he climbed the stairs.

"I'm sure I'm going to regret this, but why?"

"They've been tortured enough Jon. I've seen through the wierwood what Ramsay has done to them. They have suffered enough for their grasping at thing's which didn’t belong to them. And death would be to easy. Let them live with the results of the selfishness. Jeyne was jealous of Arya and hated her for it, she tried to take her place and Winterfell punished her for it. Theon betrayed Robb and tried to declared himself the Sacker of Winterfell, and Winterfell punished him for it. Now they must live with the consequences. Let them see what has become of those they sought to take everything from."

Jon said nothing else until he was settling Bran down on a cot near the fire in his solar, Satin helping the limping Meera along to sit at his side, while Tormud as much as carried Jojen into the room and placed him on the furs directly in front of the flames. Satin pulled Tormund from the room after him.

"Winterfell punished them?"

Bran and Jojen both nodded weakly.

"Do you remember father's saying? There must always be a Stark in Winterfell? It wasn't just an excuse not to have Robert drag us all to the South. Benjen and the Three eyed Crow reminded me that sayings like that aren’t just sayings. They're warnings. That’s why the Other's have been getting closer to the Wall, Jon. There is some magic in having a Stark in Winterfell and having the wall defended. They're barriers to the Others, keeping them to the True North. The Wall isn't fully defended, and there hasn't been a Stark in Winterfell in years, the protections are gone, and the Others now know it."

"Bran, you said Benjen. Uncle Benjen has been missing and assumed dead for years now."

Bran smiled softly at his brother as Satin returned with bowls of hot broth, and Tormund took the largest to place on the floor as Summer followed him in.

"He is dead Jon. But he is different from the Others. The children of the Forest woke him, he cannot come beyond the wall because of what he is now. But he did tell me there are things we need to know about the magics at play here. We need to get back to Winterfell. The Starks need to go home."

Jon nodded and handed his little brother a bowl.

"Eat Bran. Rest. We will talk more later. For now I need to have a talk with the turncloak and the woman."

"Don't hurt them Jon."

"No Promises."

Jon moved to leave the room but Bran's voice stopped him.

"You told Theon that Rickon was with Arya. How did you know? Your right, but how?"

"The wolves. I keep dreaming of Ghost, he's somewhere in the south. He found ShaggyDog and Nymeria by the coast. They're waiting for something. I just assumed that if those two had found each other then that must mean our siblings had as well. Rest Bran."

\--------

Gendry watched Arya carefully as she moved through the familiar motions of the Water Dance on the ships deck. Her eyes were closed and she moved almost without thinking. He remembered a time when it was her way of training, of taking back some control over her own life, now it served to calm her. The fluid motions allowing her body to take over and her mind to quiet. He was so sick of the damn boat, of being holed up in one spot, and feeling like an idiot in these fancy clothes. He was no fine prissy lord, he was a blacksmith and not having a hammer in his hands was maddening.

Well not a blacksmithing hammer least ways. She could have knocked him over with a feather when Davos had handed him the bag containing the books and the two hammers. He hadn't given two shits about the old war hammer, no it was the small smithing hammer that knocked the air from his lungs. He would have known that hammer anywhere, Tobho had never let any of the other apprentice smith's touch it, and even he only used it when reforging the Valerian steel. It never touched another metal that he had ever seen. The books were strange, the larger tome held formulas for metal alloys and weapon styles in a language he had never seen, and the smaller appeared to be Tobho's notes. He was slowly making his way though the smaller tome, but was having difficulty making heads or tails of it. Some people who knew him thought he was simple, couldn’t read and the like. As if Tobho Mott would have tolerated an illiterate apprentice, that’s how you screw up orders. Gendry knew his sums and how to calculate the measurements of a weapon and armor to suit their owner perfectly, he knew how to read to make sure he had covered all of the specifications, and he knew how to write, can’t take and order or write up a bill if you don't.

But if people thought him simple and stupid, let them. He knew he had it better than a lot of orphans in Flea Bottom, at least until he was sold that is. But then again even that hadn't turned out too badly, it had ended him with the little shit that grew into the truest friend he could possibly imagine. Gendry hated highborns, refused to follow em. But he would follow her, he would follow Arya anywhere. And not just because she had grown into a pretty thing, or because at one point they were the only family each other had, but because of who she was. She didn't give two shits about a persons birth, just who they were and what they did. She had been right along with him to see the highest of the highborns torture innocent smallfolk and throw them away like so much refuse, and she had witnessed starving villagers give everything they had to save a starving orphan.

Gendry turned his attention to the hammer in his hands as he polished it's iron features again. His father's hammer according to Tobho's notes. Rumor had been that the thing had gone missing after the Trident and Robert had been to lazy to look for it, which infuriated him to no end for the worth of that hammer could have fed and housed a family in flea bottom for a year in good comfort. He had wanted to melt it down, but once the outer layer and decorations melted away Gendry was stunned to realize the core wasn't iron or regular steel. Someone had cast the hammer over a core of Valerian steel. That knowledge had only enraged him more because of the wealth in his hands. How many could this have fed? How many could it have protected, and his sire had left it in a marsh not caring enough to even look about for it.

He had immediately called for Thoros to be dragged to the forge and the pair had begun the slow process of reforging the hunk of Valerian steel into a proper Warhammer. The melted off steel that had encased it, had been used to make Rickon's dagger. He had attached the simple hammer head to a handle of strong ebony wood that Arya had produced, and finally after much urging from Davos, Gendry had added two sets of wrought iron antlers to the flat sides of the hammer. It was smaller, and somewhat lighter than it had been without the gaudy decoration of its previous life, but Arya claimed it beautiful, simple and strong like its owner, and that was more than enough for him.

Gendry looked up as Arya dropped down beside him and laid her head against his shoulder.

"What's going on in that head of yours?"

He chuckled.

"Nothing much really. Thinking about the past, thinking about what were sailing towards and wondering how the hell you highborn put up with these damn tight clothes all the time."

Arya laughed.

"Consider it a return for your teasing at Acorn Hall."

"That little dress had to be looser than the get up you had them sew me into."

"I breathed to hard and popped a seam on the thing Gendry."

"Did more than pop a seam when we were wrestling about on the floor like animals."

Arya shook her head at the memory, a smile gracing her lips.

"I wonder whatever happened to Lady Smallwood. I know a lot of their men died at the Red Wedding. But I always wondered if she managed to survive."

Gendry sighed.

"They didn't. On our way back through after the wedding, we found the hall had been burned to the ground. Ravella and her household had been put to the sword. They killed the servants because the Lord held with your brother."

Arya sighed and reached up to wipe the tears from her eyes.

"Bastards. I fucking hate that its always the smallfolk who suffer when lords get in a pissing contest. They get no say in it, but its their fields that are burned, their girls raped and killed while the highborns sit in their castles and drink wine. My father wasn't perfect, but I remember him doing his damndest to protect the small folk and demanding his vassals do the same. The stupid lords seem to forget it’s the small folk that keep them there, they're the ones who supply the food, the soldiers are men from the villages. It's the lords job to protect them."

"That what how my father felt. A lord was the father to a thousand sons, or something to that effect. He knew the small folk kept us in power. He believed that it was a mark of a Lords character how well they knew and cared for their small folk."

Gendry nodded.

"Your father was a rare one. The only Lord I ever met who spoke to Tobho and me with respect."

Arya looked out over the water to where it met the dark sky.

"Father spoke for his people, he saw to it they were all fed and had somewhere to go. My father wasn't a perfect man, I'm sure he had his faults. But he lived for the duty he felt for the people below him. Robert lived for his glory days, Rhaegar lived for songs and pretty girls, and the Mad King lived for power and paranoia. I've heard rumors and many stories about this dragon queen, she fights for the lowest of her people. She actually got the majority of the Dothraki to stop raiding and has destroyed the slavers in the bay. I can't imagine she lived in any real luxury on the run as she was, it would have made her too big of a target. Who knows, maybe she really is what the people need. A queen to succeed where so many kings and princes fail. Every man in the last what twenty odd years has claimed to be some sort of father and done a horrible job. Maybe what Westeros needs now is a mother to heal the damage."

"Practicing your pitch to her on me then? You don’t have to convince me Arya, I'll follow you to the ends of the world if only to throw your whiney tail over my shoulder to drag you to Winterhell."

"Winter _FELL_ you stupid."


	8. Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The stars bear witness to many shifts, a wolf and a dragon prepare for a meeting, Jon decides what to do with Theon, and Sansa has a guest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey yall sorry this is so late but late last week I had a medical emergency and ended up in the hospital for a few days. But I'm home now and here it is!

As the night settled on the ship, Arya made her way back above the decks. It was quiet now, the crew for the most part seeking out their hammocks in the hold. Davos corralling Rickon into their quarters and into his own hammock, to tell him tales of war and the battles he had seen. Tonight was the Battle of the Blackwater, with added commentary from Tyrion Lannister, so that the boy would know both sides of the fight. Rickon saw it only as stories to keep him amused and help him to sleep, but both Arya and Gendry had smirked when the boy had questioned Tyrion on why he had made a certain choice in battle over another one. He was learning.

The night was clear and increasingly warm the father south they headed. Arya had been feeling claustrophobic as the warmth increased and was very tempted to start sleeping on the deck as the crew mentioned they were want to do soon. A deep breath and Arya slowly tensed the muscles of her neck and face, taking time to relax each muscle, on down to her shoulders and then to her back. She needed to relax, they were only a day or so from making port in Mereen if the good winds kept up. A day to either make a new ally or to start fighting for their very lives yet again, this time not because of someone else's greed but her own gamble. She had never felt the weight of being responsible for others before, before it had been simple 'survive and stay together', but now she was actively taking steps that could either see them all on the shores of their homeland or could see them all roasted alive to be fed to the monsters of her dreams. She could not falter, the price was too high.

She didn't need to turn when Gendry came above deck, carrying a wine skin with him. She could hear his lumbering footsteps a league a way she assumed. The more things change… she mused.

"So what are the odds were dead by this time tomorrow?"

Arya snorted and took the wine skin from his extended hand, Gendry dropped to the deck beside her and looked up at the glittering night sky.

"I'd wager even odds really. I should have sent you and Rickon on a ship to the Wall or somewhere safe. Instead I drug you both with me to what may likely be a very painful death."

"Well it can't be worse than Harrenhall. Doubt this dragon queen likes to use rats and buckets when she has fire breathing critters at her beck and call."

"True. And I'll pay you a thousand gold stags to call them critters to her face."

A silence fell over the two as the breeze swirled around them, nothing but the creaks of the ship and the quiet movements of the deck hands to disturb the peace of the night. At least until Gendry opened his mouth again.

"What are you most afraid of?"

"Currently? Rickon dying because I took a gamble on this woman. You've heard the saying haven't you? 'When a Targaryan is born the gods flip a coin?' I don't know which side hers has landed on."

"Who said it had landed? Besides she ain't exactly a typical Targaryan is she? She grew up as what a glorified street rat? Being passed about from person to person who thought they could use her and her brother? Heard that one went mad, and pissed off one of the horse lords she got sold to. How many assassins have been sent after her? A girl no older than your brothers? Could you imagine them overcoming so many hired killers even with all that training you highborn get? She didn't have that. You didn't have that."

Arya looked at him in shock.

"When the hell did you get smart?"

Gendry laughed and snatched the wineskin from her taking a large gulp.

"Better to be thought stupid than smart. Smart can getcha killed. How else d'ya think Hotpie has lived this long?"

"He still alive then?"

"Still at Sharna's inn last time I heard. Fat and talkative as ever about his foods. Anytime I would come through with the Brotherhood, I'd always find one of his wolf breads in my pack. Misses you I think."

"I miss him too, don’t ever tell him I said that. Missed you too while I'm thinking about it. Even if you did get us captured how many times was it?"

Arya laughed softly at his affronted expression and reached for the wineskin.

"I missed you too Arry. I know I told you before but I always prayed I would find you again. I do better when I'm around you. Things are certainly more exciting."

Gendry dropped his arm around her shoulders, Arya raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything and kept drinking from the skin.

"Still didn't answer my question did ya. What you most afraid of? Not with this, I mean after. When we get back?"

Arya leaned her head back against his shoulder and stared out over the black water.

"Being married off I suppose, the war I can deal with. We've been fighting one since the day my family made it to the capital. But I'm still fertile, oh don’t make that face, I'm a highborn girl for all that my families been scattered to the winds. I never wanted to be tied down, but now? After all this? I just want to go home, wherever that will end up being. I know it will make sense for me to get married off, but I'd still like the chance to choose my own husband, one who wouldn't try to force me into being a lady like my sister and never do anything worthwhile. You?"

Gendry was quiet for a moment.

"Being stepped on again. M'a bastard blacksmith, no matter how good I am at my craft, people will always look at my name and see I was born on the wrong side of the sheet. I don't want to watch you get sold off like some bit of livestock to further someone else's game either. If I could see a way to stop it I would. You deserve better n'at. "

Arya blinked slowly.

"That a proposal blacksmith?"

"A what?"

"Marriage offer stupid. I think that might be a good way to make sure you don't die at the hands of the Dragon. Your unacknowledged, and I'm ruined to the heavens and back. We marry and you take my family name, could show you have no designs on the throne your sire stole."

"Yeah and how we gonna do that Arry? You need permission from a male in your family, a senior male at that."

"And we have one. Rickon. I don't have any proof beyond one bizarre raven that Bran is alive, and if Jon is he's a bastard. Rickon may be the only trueborn brother I have which would make him the senior male Stark. You gonna make me be a prissy lady who does nothing but sew and gossip?"

"Stranger no! You'd drive me mad if not kill me outright in my sleep for it."

"That settles is then. We're getting married."

"Do I get a say in this?"

"No."

"Never do. Alright then."

Gendry tugged her closer to his side until they were pressed together from knee to shoulder and dropped a quick kiss on her head.

"Reckon your brother will try to kill me for this."

"Depends on the brother."

"Bran?"

"I think he will like you. He'll enjoy messing with you at least."

"Rickon?"

"He's one and ten and you made him weapons. He already thinks your wonderful."

"…. Jon?"

"Oh he'll hate you. But only because I'm his favorite. He won't want to make me sad."

"So I'm going to get the shit kicked out of me, but I wont die."

"Yup."

Gendry laughed and took another drink of the wine as Arya smiled and stared out at the water.

_He sees me, and I see him. Its like mother said, build it stone by stone. I could build it with him._

* * *

Sansa stared into the fire of the small dining area of the Inn they were staying at. Petyr had gotten the idea that maybe going to the Finger's wasn't a good idea and the pair had quickly made their way towards his other holding. Harrenhal. He had never seen it personally but it was large enough and fortified enough that he could easily hide Sansa there.

As the rotund cook laid down an oddly shaped loaf of bread and a trencher of stew before her, Sansa plastered on a sweet smile and thanked the young man. When he had asked where they were headed, their answer had made the poor thing turn a ghastly shade of pale green and he muttered about nothing good ever coming from there before quickly returning to his other customers. Petyr was visiting the local maester to send a raven to someone, she hadn't really inquired as to whom. No Sansa was too busy stewing in her own thoughts. Anger over her darling Harold absconding in the middle of the night and for that brat Robin for having the gall to get kidnapped on the night she was going to end his pathetic little life. And to top it all off, they were heading in the opposite direction from where she wanted. They were heading south when she should be going North. North to take back what was hers.

Sansa was pulled from her musings when a pair of men stopped beside her.

"Lady Sansa Stark. Imagine finding you here."

She peered up at the men, one with short icy blond hair and sapphire blue eyes, and one with filthy golden blonde curls matted to his head, sharp green eyes… and one hand.

"Jamie Lannister. Look at how low the proud lion has fallen. Whose this then? Another mercenary?"

"Brienne of Tarth my lady." The blue eyed one said quietly bowing her head.

"You’re a woman?" Sansa was appalled, and here she had thought Arya was the ugliest female she had ever beheld.

"No she's a badger. Yes she's a woman, you little idiot. We need to speak with you about your mother."

Jamie plopped down on the bench across from her with all the grace of a wet rag, while Brienne stood stiffly beside the table.

"My mother is dead remember Lannister? Your men killed her?"

Jamie's eyes cut to Brienne and the pair both shifted uncomfortably.

"About that…."

* * *

Jon looked up at the stars as he paced the training yard of East Watch by the sea. Summer looked up from the leg of an elk he was gnawing on, finally starting to put on some weight under his shaggy coat. Bran and the Reeds were recovering well, and Theon and Jeyne were being prepared to vacate the castle on the next ship.

"Jon?"

Satin made sure to call out to the man as he moved towards him, he had learned quickly not to startle the man. Tormund and he had both been slammed against walls for the offence. Where Tormund had fought back, Satin had relaxed his body entirely and turned his head to the side in supplication. 'early training at the brothel' he had called it. It had only led to both men being a panting mess on the floor where as with Tormund it had ended in bruised knuckles and a split lip.

"What is it Satin."

"The turncloak wants to speak with you. Have you actually told them where they're going or just that your sticking them on a boat?"

Jon shrugged his shoulders and chuckled as he looked at the other man.

"Neither, just that they're leaving soon. I'll talk to him in their chamber."

Satin stared at him for a brief moment before bobbing his head and turning back to the warmth of the building behind him.

"Satin. I… I wanted to apologize for what happened last time you startled me."

The former whore laughed softly.

"Why? I thoroughly enjoyed it, as did you. Wouldn't say no to a repeat performance."

Jon's jaw fell with an audible pop as Satin walked away laughing. It took a moment for the man to recollect himself and start to make his way towards the chamber holding two people he hated and pitied above all else.

A single knock and Theon was opening the door for him.

"The pair of you will marry come the morning and then you will leave on the ship that docked earlier tonight. It is headed for Mereen, and you will be accompanied by a few of my loyal wildings and two of the black brothers who left with me."

Jeyne looked at him in horror while Theon stared into the fire quietly.

"I can't marry him! I'm married to Ramsay! I married him before the wierwood tree! There is no ending that marriage you know that Bastard."

Theon flinched and Jon spun to bear down on the woman.

"No, you lied before the wierwood tree, Jeyne. You claimed to be another, not a proxy, you claimed to actually be Arya Stark. The marriage was never valid in the eyes of the old gods. What prospects do you seem to think you have now? Yes what Ramsay did to you was horrible, no one deserves what he did to you. But you’re a lowborn girl who thought she could replace a Stark. One who has been raped and defiled by a Bastard. One who has lied before the most sacred thing in the faith of the Old Gods. No one in their right minds would marry you now. So you can marry Theon and go with him, or I can send you to the silent sisters for the rest of your life."

Jeyne sat down hard on the bed and stared at Jon in anguish.

"I just want to be safe."

"You will never be safe in the North Jeyne. If the lords don't call for your head, Ramsay will, and I can only imagine what Arya will do to you. You tormented her for years, then tried to play at being her. How many of the Winterfell smallfolk suffered while you pretended to be lady of the castle, people Arya knew and cared for? Hmm? You want safety, go with Theon. I am sending him to his sister in Mereen. She's treating with the Dragon Queen, I will be sending my own men to treat with her as well. Once Stannis is here we will make the plan for taking back Winterfell and I want you two far away from the North when that happens."

Theon stared at the floor silently.

"Nothing to say Greyjoy? You never lacked some smartass comment when we were younger. You'll be free, and out of the north."

"Why not just kill me?"

The mans weak whisper was almost silent over the crackling of the fire. Jon's face darkened as he allowed his anger to seep through.

"Because I want you to suffer Theon Greyjoy. I want the pair of you to suffer everyday for the rest of your miserable little lives thinking about the damage your greed has caused. You two will never bear children, the name Poole will die with her. Your family name will only live on in your sisters sons. You two sought glory that wasn't yours, tried to destroy the lives of people who trusted you, and your punishment will be to fade from memory entirely. You both wanted power and fame, and in the end you will be forgotten. If I keep you here I will kill you both, which would be far to easy a fate for you both. Bran has assured me you till meet an appropriate fate there."

Theon nodded and looked to Jeyne, her brown eyes sad but resigned.

"Yes Lord Stark."

The walls rattled with the force Jon used to slam the door.

Satin was waiting for him just outside.

"You’re a wanted man tonight it seems Jon. A man from the ship is looking for Jon Snow. Says he has something for you."

"It better be word about my fucking brother and Ser Davos. Or Stannis for that matter."

"Stannis' rider arrived this afternoon, he should be here with what remains of his forces and the few wildlings that they were able to free, within the next few days. Seems the Stormlander's aren’t used to marching in the snow. But no this man can’t quite place him, he's got the accent of the Riverlands and perhaps a bit of the Westerlands as well."

Jon pinched the area between his eyes and took a deep breath.

"All right then."

As they neared Bran's rooms, Meera stepped out and mentioned that Bran wanted to see the traveler as well. Satin looked to Jon for approval, and in turn the man just waved a bit before going in to sit beside his brother and Jojen Reed who was slowly washing the blood out of an amused Summer's fur.

A short nock and the man was admitted to the room.

"Good ev'en milords. Names Anguy, I'm an Archer for the Brotherhood without Banners. Well I was, guess now I'm an errand boy for your sister. She's sent letters for you about what she's up to in Essos, got the little boy with her as well."

Jon's head fell back against the wood of the chair with an audible smacking sound.

"Lots of people claiming to be my sister these days Archer. Tell me why I should believe its really her that sent you?"

"Short, dark, angry thing with a penchant for popping out of shadows and hitting people? Bit of an attitude problem and uses Stupid as a term of endearment. Also carries about a strange skinny little sword."

Jon and Bran exchanged an amused smile.

"Ok so you do know our sister. Let's see those letters she sent, sit down and have a drink. Tell us how you came to know her?"

* * *

Dany stood before the window of her chambers, alone but for the sleeping Missandi in her bed. The girl snoring softly from the mountain of pillows. Dany smiled as she looked back out into the night skies watching the dark figures of her children cavort and play fight amongst the stars. She was worried, their appetites were growing and she feared they would soon turn their eyes towards the civilians again. She refused to lock them up, and so she was resolved in the morning to tell them to range far from Mereen to hunt, but only two at a time.

She knew the Stark woman's ship was near to the harbor, her scouts believed they would be in port by midday of the next day if the winds held.

Dany couldn't help but shift and stretch, feeling the weight of everything settling on her shoulders. Tomorrow could be either the true beginning of her journey home or the end of it all. Although a part of her didn't want to think about leaving, Westeros had always been Viserys dream not hers. Her's had always been that house, with a red door and a lemon tree outside. Simple, peace and safety. Things that were in short supply as a Queen.

Yet at the same time she felt a duty to her ancestors, to her family, to take back what had been stolen from them. And so she would. Tomorrow she would make the choice, liberator or conqueror, it all depended on the Stark and those with her. She called out to her child.

"Drogon, I need you to do something for mother…."

* * *

Arya wasn’t sure when they had fallen asleep on deck, but as the sun slowly peaked over the horizon, turning the ink black night shades of purple, then pink and orange, Arya slowly woke nestled tightly against Gendry's chest with his arms around her. Davos smirked from a few feet away as she rubbed her eyes and elbowed the blacksmith in the ribs.

"Ports been sighted. Should be there before midday. Winds picked up a good bit during the night."

"You sure it’s the right one?"

"The dragon that’s flying straight for us was a good clue."

"Get Rickon, he'll want to see this."


	9. Red and Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya and company arrive in Mereen and meet the Dragon Queen, Jon and Bran chat, and Brienne exercises a great deal of restraint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long to get out, cant seem to catch a break healthwise the last few weeks. So please enjoy!

Gendry tugged at the cuffs at his wrist as he moved up to the bow of the ship to stand beside Arya. One arm dangling at her side, the other draped across the tense shoulders of Rickon as they gazed at the dock before them. She was tense and nervous, her fingers slowly stretching out to graze the pommel of Needle strapped at her waist. Gendry spared a glance back at Ser Davos who stood tensely beside Tyrion and Ser Jorah, before gently taking Arya's free hand into his and giving a short squeeze. This was it, he could very well be dead with in the next few minutes, oddly enough he was calm about that. He had done what he had set out to do, he'd found his first and truest friend in the world, he'd gained her forgiveness for being an idiot, and she had simply responded with the fact that if they survived this meeting he would be marrying her at the first gods wood they could find. Rickon had been all to eager to give his approval of the match, after all Gendry could not only keep up with Arya but could tease her too and he made weapons. What more could the boy have asked for in a good brother according to him, and if the man survived the wolves then he was all right by him. Gendry hadn’t been quite sure what to make of that but had nodded and smiled.

As the crew pulled the ship the last few meters into the dock and tied off, Arya and the others made their way down the gangplank in near silence. At the head of the dock stood a group of what she assumed were Unsullied along with one very familiar old man.

"Ser Barristan Selmy."

"Lady Arya Stark… and company."

Arya's face broke into a beaming smile as she approached the man, he looked so different without the ostentatious golden armor and the snowy white cloak. Now wearing a dark steel armor with a red cloak, he seemed much more at ease.

"It is good to see you sir."

" And you my lady. If I may say, you look so much like your…"

Arya sighed and smiled sadly.

"My aunt, I know. These louts never cease to tell me so."

Barristan smiled at the girl.

"Aye you do look like her, but I was going to say how much you look like your father. And the lad, Rickon is it?"

Arya turned and waved her brother up beside her, he moved quickly to stand at her side.

"Rickon, this is Ser Barristan Selmy. Former knight of the Kingsguard and a good man."

"Seven above the boy looks like Brandon. Your uncle. I met him briefly when he came to Kings Landing all those years ago. I can see the Tully in him, more so than you Lady Stark, but the Stark is strong in him too. I pray for your sake lad your more even tempered than your uncle."

"He was raised by a wildling and a skagosi and he's been cooped up on a ship for weeks on end."

"Ah. So he'll be more trouble for the guards than you were with your cats then?"

Rickon beamed up at the knight and nodded so hard his curls spun.

"And one of Robert's bastards I see. The blacksmith."

Arya froze slightly before nodding.

"Yes. Gendry. Never knew his father."

Gendry stepped forward at the sound of his name, giving a large presence behind the petite woman, not threatening or aggressive, but making it known that he would back her up. Rickon felt the change in his sister and slowly unwrapped his arm from her waist, hands slipping down to rest on the handle of his axes.

"Be at ease child. I mean the lad no harm. I know all to well how Robert was with his get. And how he wasn't. Now we need to get off this dock and into the pyramid. Her Grace is anxious to meet with you."

Arya nodded and stepped forward beside him.

"Tell me Ser Barristan. What sort of Queen is she? You’ve seen enough rulers in your day to have a decent opinion."

As they walked Barristan was quiet for a few moments.

"She's young, a widow and has lost a child. She tries to be just, but she can be ruthless when she needs to be. She's good with the people who have seen her as their salvation. She's freed so many and they've given her their loyalty. As a queen? I think she will be better than any of the last several Westeros has suffered, but I know she will not be able to do it alone. Her dragons have bee useful here, they haven't seen dragons for thousands of years. But Westeros? The scars of the dragons are still there, people remember the fires of the last dragons and how they burned. She is going to need people beside her who will see past the Dragon and see the person beneath. Like your father could."

Arya nodded. As they reached the pyramid, a scream ripped through the air and Arya flinched as she looked up to see all three massive dragons circling and staring down at them.

"You certainly seem more at ease Ser Barristan. You truly like this dragon queen."

"She is a far cry from the insanity I have served in the past. I swore my oath to be loyal to the crown, regardless of whom wore it. When that demented brat freed me from my vows I was able to follow my conscious rather than the oath I was bound to. What I see in her, is the good of her mother and her brother. I think you will be surprised."

" I was surprised when I received her response to my letter and it wasn't a dragon."

As they entered the pyramid Arya was struck by the banners lining the walls, black fields with the crimson three headed dragon.

How odd the colors of the house banners. The red for the flames of the dragons of legend, black as a reminder of the scorched earth left in their wake. The white of the Stark Banner as a reminder of the Winter that is always coming, the steel for the crown of Iron given up by the king who knelt. Lannister crimson and gold for their greed and bloodthirsty methods to acquire it. The charcoal black of the Baratheon for the clouds of the storms and the lightning gold of the stags. The grasping greedy golden rose of House Tyrell and its verdant green for its strength. So many had died wearing those colors for the same reasons, Greed and insanity. What would those colors come to mean in the future?

The Red blood of those angry at being forgotten and abandoned while the highborn played for a throne. Black, the charred remains of villages and homes ravaged by those greedy for wealth and pain. White for ash from the ravaged fields, green hidden beneath the snow. Arya shook her head, clearing those thoughts from her mind, no those colors and banners had been disgraced by greed and bloodshed. It fell to them to make them mean something again, to make those banners something to be proud of again. To be worthy of the people they were charged to protect.

Ser Barristan stopped before a large set of double doors, next to a table flanked by both a Unsullied and a Dothraki. A handmaiden stood before the closed doors, as if to block their path.

"Khalessi asks that weapons stay here. Please remove."

Arya glanced back at Ser Jorah who was already removing his sword from his side, before slowly unbuckling Needle and laying it on the table, followed by the dagger visible in the top of her boot. Gendry and Rickon followed suit along with the others. Thoros moved to sit on the bench carved along the wall.

"I have no business in there, I'll stay out here and keep an eye on things."

Arya nodded and turned to face the handmaiden who was gazing at her calmly.

"All weapons must stay."

Arya smiled and pulled a small arrowhead shaped knife from her belt buckle, a thin stiletto from between her breasts, arching back slightly she removed a small staff from her back, the chain at her neck was removed and at the handmaiden's amused expression and a quick gesture, the small white stones at her ears were taken out as well.

Gendry simply rolled his eyes while Rickon just stared at his sister. Tyrion's eyes trailed down her body in awe, his beady eyes taking a keen interest in her backside.

"Got anything else hidden in there?"

Arya shot the man a frosty glare and shifted closer to Gendry.

"If I had worn a corset we would be here all day."

Ser Barristan outright laughed at the girl's words and shook his head.

"Your Aunt and Uncle would be proud my lady. Now let us proceed."

The handmaiden nodded and turned to open the doors, Ser Barristan led them into a room with a simple long wooden table surrounded by chairs. Braizers every few paces lit the walls between the open windows ensuring that no shadows were present. At the far end of the room, atop white stone steps sat a carved chair, holding a young woman with silver hair that glinted in the light, dressed in a diaphanous gown of red gauze with a black bodice and black trimmings. Beside her stood a woman in black and brown leathers, her short hair half twisted up, and weather browned skin giving her a far more rugged appearance than the woman on the throne.

"Welcome Lady Arya Stark, Lord Rickon Stark, Lord Tyrion Lannister, Ser Davos Seaworth, and Gendry Baratheon."

"Thank you for meeting with us, Khalessi Daenerys Targaryen."

The woman stood and made her way down to the group standing beside the table, staring hard at Arya and Gendry.

"You call me Khalessi, not queen?"

"You earned the title Khalessi, you haven’t earned the title of Queen quite yet."

Dany smiled and stretched out her arm to take Arya's, holding her gaze calmly.

"Please sit. Lets dispense with the ego stroking that is so common among men. We have things to discuss and little time to do so."

Soon enough everyone was arranged around the table, introductions were had and Arya was already regretting bringing Ser Jorah into this as he had yet to stop staring at Dany like a love sick puppy.

"Now Lady Stark to business. Give me a reason not to have you and your brothers heads taken for your fathers role in the rebellion against my family. Give me a reason not to kill your bastard outright for what his father did to my brother."

"Give me a reason not to kill you myself for your father murdering my grandfather and uncle in open court. Give me a reason not to kill you for your beloved brother kidnapping and raping my four and ten year old Aunt. Give me a reason not to let my little brother slit your squid from cunt to skull for what her brother did to him and our brothers. I was under the impression you were not your father, nor Lady Greyjoy there her brother. I am not my father, my aunt or my uncle. I am simply Arya. Now if that’s the route you wish to go down, fine, we can all attempt to avenge the actions taken against our families by relatives in this room but that will get us no where beyond all of us dead and leaving the room a bloody mess. "

Dany stared at the younger woman hard for a moment.

"You say nothing about my killing your bastard."

"As a person who has built themselves of being a voice for the voiceless and a liberator of slaves, I highly doubt you would kill a skilled craftsman for the actions of a sire he never met. But if you should be, know that I will kill you for the sins of your own sire just as quickly. None of us bear the responsibility for the actions of those who came before us, and we can do nothing to change them. It’s the reason the Lannister is still breathing, after all his father's actions ended in the deaths of my brother and mother. But those were the actions of his father, not him. I was raised to judge people based on their actions, not their names. Again, if that’s the path you wish that is fine and no one will leave this room alive, but I think we have better things to discuss don't you?"

"Such as?"

"Hunting down a mad lioness and making sure Westeros survives for you to rule it."

Dany smiled and leaned back in her seat slightly.

"Agreed. If we look back we are lost, nothing can be done to change what happened. I am not so naïve to believe my father was a good man, he was mad. Rhaegar failed his people in allowing my father to go unchecked for so long, and for allowing himself to be blinded by his lust for your Aunt. She was younger than the pair of us when he set his sights on her, and dragon's are greedy things. My brothers lust and greed cost them their lives, cost my niece and nephew their lives and the lives of hundreds of men. Irrational hatred and paranoia is what caused the Usurper to send assassins after children. I am not my father, you are not yours, nor is your blacksmith his. It seems that we all want the same thing, to go home and have a home to go back to."

Arya nodded and the tension eased slightly.

"You have the heir's presumptive of two regions of Westeros, the largest and the richest. Rickon is to my knowledge the only surviving trueborn male heir, I have no concrete proof of our brother Bran's survival but I sincerely hope that he is alive. Our other brother is a bastard and a sworn brother of the Nights Watch. You want the North on your side, you need a loyal Stark heir. My father didn’t earn the loyalty of the North because he was meant to be Warden, he was a second son destined to rule a minor hold under his brother Brandon. Eddard Stark had to earn the loyalty of his people and he did. That’s why the north rose behind my brother Robb Stark when my father was arrested. You will get nothing from the north if you simply expect and demand it. The North's loyalty must be earned, but when it has been it is resolute. In Braavos I have heard whispers of the Nothern lords sending messengers out to seek my brothers widow in the Westerlands, a rumor arrived that she had been with child shortly after Robb's murder, but if I know Tywin as well as I think he would have made sure any such child was dead. The Westerlands have been crushed under Tywin Lannister's greedy boot for to long. He was ruthless but effective and fair to those under him who were loyal, but greedy. Tyrion can tell you more about them and how to get what you need from them. Lady Greyjoy there has likely already promised you the Iron Islands, they follow strength which her brother is not and her Uncle is a madman. The hardest for you will be the Riverlands and the Stormlands, but even then not impossible. My uncle Edmure is the heir to Riverrun and has at least one child by his wife according to Davos here. Free him and get him to his seat and we shall see how his loyalty falls, the Riverlands have been the killing fields of the lords of the Westerlands for years. The Stormlands I can imagine are tired. They fought for two Baratheon kings and now they fight for the north. Their lands are being left to fallow and are a prime target for raiders. Start there. Dorne is pulling away harder than ever after Oberyn Martells death, they were bound by choice, let them be free. This can be either a glorious return or an invasion, but that all depends on you. You know how things work here, we know how things work in Westeros."

"You have a lot of idea of what I should do Lady Stark. What gives you the authority to tell me this?"

"Cut the crap your grace. It's Arya, never really was much of a proper lady by southern standards. My authority comes from being the daughter of the Warden of the North, a orphan in the streets of Kings Landing, a girl on the run in the Riverlands, a slave in Harrenhal. It comes from seeing the best and worst in people of all ranks and creeds, it comes from watching a monster destroy my family and my homeland for the sake of their own ego. You want the Iron throne? You can take it with Fire and Blood, but you will be queen of nothing but ash. You can send your Dothraki screamers and you will be queen of fields of corpses. You can take your throne using the might of your dragons and you will starve when the winter comes. I am young, so are you, but we have to prepare for the war that is coming and the winter that come after that."

Daenerys stared hard at the girl through narrowed violet eyes.

"I do not believe the people of Westeros will love me simply for liberating them. I know that it will be different than how things are in Essos, the city states are far more loosely connected than the regions of Westeros. It seems we have need of each other Arya Stark. We both have everything to lose and everything to gain, but I do hear your words. You do not speak for the lords of Westeros, you speak of the people. The one's who suffer when the Lords play war."

"Yes your grace. If you have the love of the people, you have what you need to take control. But you have to earn it, your people can't eat dragon fire and freedom."

______________

Jon and Bran stood, and sat, side by side on the walkway overlooking the courtyard of Eastwatch by the Sea. Theon and Jeyne were staring at Arya's archer with no small amount of fear. The strange man had delighted in telling them all about how the sneaky little girl had turned into a vicious assassin. Meera liked the man and they had spent the early part of the morning in archery practice together. Jon could see why Arya liked him, he was exactly the sort who would have set her mothers teeth on edge, and set Robb into hysterics. Bran had seemed relieved when Anguy had mentioned Rickon, and Jon could understand. Knowing your younger siblings were alright was one thing but having that confirmation was quite another.

Jon smiled when the gate of the courtyard opened and the wagon carrying two people he never wished to see again left, and were quickly replaced by tattered and singed burning stag banners. Stannis Baratheon had finally made his way through the snow.

The Archer had filled Jon in on Arya's plan to get the Dragon Queen on her side, and that it was up to Jon to get the Stag in line. Which he didn’t expect to be too difficult as the mans daughter was on the way for her own safety, and from what he had observed of the girl and from Davos' stories about her, she was the one he should be dealing with. Her father was a zealot obsessed with his mistress and what he perceived to be his power, the man reminded him much of a young Theon so entitled. No if he wanted to get things moving in the direction he wanted, he needed to deal with little Shireen, the Lady of Storms End since her father had abandoned the seat and declared himself a 'King'. She was a child, barely older than Rickon would be, Jon entertained the thought briefly of offering her a betrothal, but he somehow expected Arya would very loudly protest to her brothers being sold off for alliance. No best to offer protection for her and once Rickon was back in Winterfell let things fall where they may.

Bran had simply assured him that the moniker "Wild Wolf" suited their baby brother all to well. Jon looked down at his little brother, Bran looking far more tired than he liked. The boy had been searching for their sisters for some time and Jon had finally convinced him to take a break and help his brother play politics. Bran had weakly assured him that Arya was as safe as they could wish, but when the topic had turned to Sansa the boy had looked almost heartbroken and would say nothing more than that she was alive. Jon was unsure what to make of that, Sansa certainly hadn't been especially close with the boy when he had last seen them, Sansa preferring to spend her time in more 'feminine' pursuits while Bran had begun working with the Master at Arms. Even after Bran's fall, Sansa had avoided the boys sick room, making sure everyone knew she was in her mother's sept to pray for his recovery. He could remember all to well Sansa's treatment of Arya, how the girl had delighted in making their sister feel like she was less than and he could only imagine that it had gotten worse once she was away from the recourse of their brothers. Jon had resolved to press Bran later, but for now he was content to let the boy keep his secrets.

"Jon. It's time. Stannis won't be happy with your plan. But we need him and his men to realize that we need all of Westeros united, or else the Others will finally breach the Wall and no crown or iron chair will stop them until the entire continent is ravaged."

"I couldn't give two shits about whether or not Stannis will be happy. He's so caught up in his own vain glory he can't see past the end of his own nose. He took half frozen Stormland men against Northern troops. They're monsters yes, but they're still northerners. If we want to take Winterfell back we need all of the Starks, we need to be unified against the Bolton's. You said Ramsay knows he wasn't married to the real Arya, how?"

"Her eyes. Ramsay is a hunter, he studies his prey. He may never have seen Arya but Roose Bolton knew Father. He knew that you and Arya took after Father in your looks, just as he knew that the other children all took after the Tully look. He would have known that Arya was dark of hair and grey of eye, anyone who knew father knew that look. Roose may have hated him, but he knew what his liege lord looked like. He fought with Robb, was with mother, he had to have been told what the girls looked like since Arya was missing. Add to that, Theon didn't kill everyone when he purged Winterfell, just the ones who were loyal or had some form of rank in the household. Ramsay studied on what Arya should have looked like, he checked with more than just Theon as to who his bride really was. He can't let it get out that she wasn't Arya, the Bolton's hold on Winterfell and Wardenship of the North is dependent upon his marriage to her."

"So we need to protect her when she returns with Rickon then?"

"Arya isn't the little girl you remember Jon, she can well protect herself and she's going about this so that when she returns to the North, to us, we will be able to take our home back. For now we need to focus our attention on the Wall and what's beyond it."

"Why do I feel like you know something I don't about our sister?"

"I know a great deal of things you don't Jon. We can't all swing a big sword and brood prettily."

"Just for that Lord Stark, you get to deal with Stannis."

___________

Brienne and Jamie watched as the horses carrying Lord Baelish and his daughter trotted away at a rapid pace.

"Well that went well."

Brienne closed her eyes and mentally tried to list the reasons why she needed to not kill the idiot man beside her.

"You told her that her mother had been raised from the dead and was hanging people in the Riverlands along with a band of outlaws. What exactly did you expect?"

"For the girl to have some sense of adventure?"

"Honestly, if the lady doesn't kill you I will. And I will enjoy every moment of it."

Jamie smirked as the woman walked away from him back towards the inn. A young child ran up to her and shoved a bit of parchment in her hand before scampering off again. She read the thing, twice to make sure she was reading it correctly before entering the inn and tossing it into the fire.

"What was that?"

"Reports of Direwolves. Three of them, apparently they're eating Lannister and Frey men."

"Oh goody."


	10. Do you hear the people sing?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pace is beginning to pick up as we check in to other parts of Westeros. Tommen is faced with a choice, Jeyne Westerling looks out of a window, and a Gravedigger has a staring contest with a bird. Plans are being made and put into place to get people where they should be. And Theon and Jeyne arrive in Mereen, while three wolves join their brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one kind of got away from me, but it all works. This chapter takes place over several weeks with only the first two sections back to back, everything else is at a delay.

Willas Tyrell was sitting on the open terrace of Highgarden perusing the raven he had received form Garlan.

"Dig out the Targaryen Banners. Alliance with Starks. They will need our grain to help take back the North."

He smiled as he lifted his goblet of Arbor Gold to sip at the overly sweet wine. His other ravens detailed the Dowager Queens walk of Atonement through the streets, he could almost hear his grandmothers glee in the overly descriptive letter she sent him, with her anticipation of the trial as well. Which was followed by a hasty raven in his sisters hand only stating that she was sending Grandmother home and that Loras was still in trouble with the Faith Militant. Olenna would surely be irritated to know she had missed out on watching Cersei be tried before the faith. He could see the banners of his grandmothers carriage as it approached High Garden when a sudden chill took him, despite the bright sunlight. It coursed from his chest to his extremities and filled him with a dread far worse than the day the maeseter told him his leg was ruined. Slowly as the carriage approached the dread shifted, into a bone deep sense of grief. Something had happened in Kings Landing, something had happened to their family.

* * *

Varys stared in something akin to shock as he watched the green flames climb into the skies over Kings Landing. He should have known that Cersei would not allow her humiliation to go unpunished. But to destroy the sept of Baelor? With the Lord of Highgarden inside? Queen Margery? Not to mention the hundreds of nobles inside and the small folk who gathered outside.

Even he hadn't thought she was quite that mad.

He ran to the rooms where King Tommen had been preparing to leave for the trial, only to see Ser Robert Strong walking away from the chamber. For once the spider dispensed with stealth and flung the door open. He reached Tommen right as the boy lifted his foot to step off the ledge of his window and threw his arms around the distraught boy.

"No child."

"Look at what my mother has done! She killed them all, Margery, the High Septon, the people! She murdered them all!" The boys horrified voice shook as he took in what his mother had wrought. Varys could only feel pity for the child as he grappled with the monster his once loving mother had become.

"I know. But if you do this, she will take your throne."

"She will take it anyway. It's what she always wanted, not father not Joff, not my sister and certainly not me. She wanted power. I see it now, she used me to get what she wanted."

"Yes she will take it, but you have another option to consider. Abdicate the throne and name Daenerys Targaryan the rightful ruler of Westeros. Have her return to put your mother down while you return to Casterly Rock."

"She'll simply come there and kill me."

"If you willingly give up your claim to the throne she may well let you live. She does not kill children."

Tommen looked at the eunuch for a long moment.

"You know where my uncle is?"

"Tyrion? Yes and I know he will protect you as much as he can, but if you don't step down he won't be able to help you. The Dragon is coming and anyone standing in her way will not be doing so for long."

"It isn't just the Dragon Lord Varys," Tommen walked over to his desk and opened on of the small religious texts there and removed several small scraps of parchment. "The wolves are returning as well. Mother thought she had wiped them out, Joffrey bragged to Sansa about. But they were wrong."

Varys' eyes widened as he took in the small sigils and words scribbled there.

"When did you get these? I've been watching the ravens and nothing like this has come to me."

Tommen's eyes narrowed.

"I never said they came through the Ravens. I'm surprised your little birds haven't seen them. Have you checked on those poor things since mother's maester found out about them?"

Vary's silence told him the answer. Tommen smiled sadly before picking up the crown from its velvet pillow and tracing the prongs.

"I always found it odd that Mother stood so firmly behind claiming we were Baratheon's, anyone with eyes could see that I favor my true father to the point of being almost identical. Can a Bastard really give up a claim to something that was never theirs?"

"You knew?"

"Myrcella told me. She figured it out when the rumors reached us that Joffrey was questioning mother about it."

Tommen huffed a small laugh as he began to move about his chamber, picking up things and stuffing them into a small leather satchel. He opened his wardrobe and pulled open a door on the bottom.

"Ill need your help with this. There's two boxes we need to take with us, and a third to be sent to Dorne."

"What are they?" Varys peered curiously over the boys shoulders, his eyes widening almost comically at the badly carved sigils on top of the three large boxed the boy pulled free.

"Myrcella always wanted to make sure the boxes made their way back to the families. She couldn't take the box with her to Dorn, to many eyes on her, so I promised I would see it done."

Varys nodded and left the room to fetch two men he considered loyal. The men returned and Tommen had changed into plain brown leathers, and had taken a sharp knife to his blonde curls and cut them down to a bare fuzz that ran overtop of his head.

"Let's go. Mother will be along shortly. Varys, if you can, get the small folk out."

* * *

The green flames haunted Bran's dreams, he needed to get the pieces moving sooner than he planned. His responsibility was to the people of Westeros and he could no longer afford to focus solely on the coming issues from the North. They needed the armies of Westeros united sooner rather than later. It was time to fly.

* * *

Jeyne Westerling… Stark… Frey… Lannister… no once again Westerling, gazed out of the barred tower window, down over the river that oozed along beside where she now would spend her days until her mother found another suitor who had a bone to pick with the widow of the Young Wolf. They would meet their fate, just as the others before them had. Her fingers traced over the faint scars in the creases of her palms and her fingers, reminders of how tightly she had clung to that stupid crown when she should have clung to Robb. She had been a fool. But her mother would pay, her brother would pay, for the child she knew they had killed in her belly.

She remembered her mothers glee when she told Jeyne that the teas she had brought her to make her fertile had killed any child that had tried to take root. She wonders what her mothers eyes will show when Jeyne takes her revenge. Perhaps the same look as her stinking Frey husband who tried to marry her two years to the day after Robb's death. Or that of the Lannister Cousin who came after that. One shocked that a woman would fight back, the other strangely resigned to his fate. But she had heard the whispers of the servants of the ghost who stalked the Riverlands hunting Frey and Lannister and Bolton.

Perhaps he was at peace knowing it was a living woman who killed him, not a dead one. They had no defense against her little blade, and once dead, little Jeyne heaved the body up and out the window of the tower she had requested, always one with a close view to the river.

She loved the crunch the body made when it hit the ground, it reminded her of the sound of Grey Wind feasting on his kills, a sound that once terrified her as much as the creature who made it. She should have tried harder to be comfortable around him, but again her mother interfered.

The bodies were both gone by moonrise each night, a bloody streak leading to the river.

She never changed from the mourning clothes, and when her mothers ladies tried to stich the houses of her later husbands into her clothes, Jeyne would tear them out with whatever she could find. When all of her direwolf emblems were taken from her, she would sew them in, and when they took her needles and thread, she would etch the symbol in coal.

She would make them pay, Raynald would help her. They claimed he was dead, but she knew, Jeyne knew he was alive.

She could see the little Tully boy out walking with his mother, far enough away that they wouldn’t notice her little scrolls. His bright red curls shone in the sun and his blue eyes twinkled brightly as he laughed and chased after a butterfly. Would Robb's son have shared those looks? Robb's uncle had been kind to her the few times she had met him, and his wife always sent her a smile when she was allowed close enough to the windows. Sometimes a small handkerchief would be slipped in to her with a small direwolf stitched into it alongside a little fish.

Out the window dropped scroll after scroll, each no bigger than her fingers. All scooped up by the small scullery maid and tucked into the pockets of squires and stable boys. She could hear it now in the whispers of the servants at the passed under her window, gossip about direwovles being sighted again. Rumors of the Starks resurfacing, word that a Stark girl had been married to the Bolton's bastard son. Faint whispers of a Dragon. She could hear on days when the farmers would bring crops to the castle and would linger in the courtyards, she could hear them complain about how rotten the Westerling's were, how greedy the Lannister's were. How the Young Wolf had treated the small folk, the honor of his father.

Jeyne knew the truth, she knew what Robb had put into his will, she knew that the Lannisters couldn’t let the secret be whispered. So she would shout it from every tavern in the Westerlands. She pulled the twisted scrap of parchment from her sleeve where it lay twined around her wrist under the duff of her gown. Weeks ago a raven had flown to her window and climbed in between the bars, it had stared at her for a moment before gently placing the parchment in her hand. Ever so lightly her fingers traced the coal etching of a wolf, and the words "You are not forgotten."

* * *

A grave digger sat under the shade of a tree on the quiet isle, gnawing on a roasted leg of some bird. The warm sunshine lighting up the green of the unbroken grass to his left, and the warm rich brown earth of the newly dug grave to his right. His shovel stabbed into the ground beside him, its handle swaying slightly in the breeze. A shadow fell across his lap and the gravedigger raised his scarred face to see a large black bird landed on the handle of his shovel, sitting still as stone and staring at him. The gravedigger glared at the bird, and the bird glared back.

"Shoo"

CAW

The gravedigger glared harder.

"You can't eat the crow my friend."

The grave digger snorted and turned to look up at Elder Brother as he moved to stand beside the black bird. He gently reached out and ran his fingers down the soft feathers of the creature who remained still and calm until his hands reached the middle of its back. The crow flapped its wings and cawed again.

"How many dead this time?"

"Oh no need to worry with that, you've dug enough graves for the poor souls I found. No I was walking to clear my head. I heard some disturbing news while out searching for those who needed my services."

"And? I don't give a fuck what bullshit news you heard."

"Not even about Arya Stark being married to the bastard of house Bolton? They say you can hear the poor souls screams from White Harbor."

"His or Hers?"

"Hers. Seems the poor thing hasn’t been seen in weeks but the screams still carry. Apparently Stannis Baratheon attempted to rescue the girl and failed."

"It aint Arya Stark. No way in the hells that hellcat would let a man lay a hand on her against her will. Stannis failing doesn't surprise me, he's fucking stupid."

The Crow looked at him yet again and croaked.

"Not her."

Elder Brother smiled at the bird for another moment before settling down beside the other man.

"Our time here is coming to an end my friend. Something is coming and in my prayers the seven have guided me to know that what we do here shortly won't matter at all. I've had terrible dreams of snow and monsters."

The grave digger rolled his eyes.

"I don't believe in your 'seven' never have. I stayed here to help and to pay for your help while I healed."

"Oh you've more than done that. With the way our winged little friend here is staring at you, I can't help but think there's a reason for that. I think my friend it's time for Sandor Clegane to return from the dead, and to head North. The name Jon Stark stands out to me. Seek him out, tell him what you know of his sisters. You have protected both she wolves at one point or another, now I think you would be well suited to protect the male now."

"Wolves have no need of Hounds. The girls were just children, and I took the little one with the intention of selling the little brat for a ransom."

"And yet you didn’t, you protected her. You kept her safe until you couldn't any longer and even then you made sure she could steal your gold and your horse to make her way to safety. And no, the Wolves need no Hounds. But I do believe they need a Grave Digger."

Elder Brother slid the strap of a bag from his shoulder and settled it on the ground between the two men. Sandor could see the head of his wood axe and a large dagger peaking out, both sharpened and cleaned until he could see his own scarred face staring back at him.

"I also came across something else on my recent travels."

A sharp whinny cut across the air.

"You found my fucking horse?"

"Seems the beast keeps kicking his way free of stables and biting and throwing riders. Seems he's been bought and sold all the way from Salt Pans."

* * *

Jamie Lannister glanced over at Brienne for the thousandth time today as they road through yet another burned out field.

Brienne didn’t even shifted under his gaze beyond a heavy sigh.

"This field could have fed the village for several months. In stead it was burned. What exactly do my cousins and the Frey's expect the small folk to eat when winter comes?"

Brienne rolled her eyes and kept silent.

"I mean really, such a waste of resources. All the had to do was kill off the farmers if they couldn’t scare loyalty into them and then a portion of the harvest would have been theirs. Now the family is still dead and everyone else will simply starve. And all the animals, what they didn’t kill they left and the wolves got them. So wasteful."

"You arrogant ass. This field was the life of a family, their entire family depended on this farm to survive, their village relied on their grain and vegetables to survive! And your men, your families men did this!"

Brienne spat at him, her blue eyes sparking in the sunshine.

"Not my men. My cousins' men. I stood up for what was right and what did it get me, hn? I freed my brother only to have him shoot my father in the damned guarder robe. My sister stripped me of my cloak and command. Now your carting me through the Riverlands to face the undead mother of the man who held me hostage and threatened to feed me to his wolf whenever he got cranky!"

"Your family was holding his sisters hostage! Your sister had his father killed!"

Jamie sighed and looked hard at his gold hand.

"Sister. We only ever had the one girl. Arya Stark went missing the day Eddard was arrested, Meryn Trant was sent to retrieve her, but came back quickly and empty handed. Joffrey sent him on purpose, you see. Trant had a particular taste for hurting little girls, and Arya Stark was defiant and willful. Joff hated her, and Trant was…. Interested in breaking the child."

Brienne's eyes snapped to him in horror.

"She was never found though, her things were rifled before our men made it in there but she was long gone. I heard a rumor she was in the crowd the day of the execution, but that had been weeks between the arrest and the execution. I caught a glimpse of a caravan headed for the wall that day, I like to think the girl made it out with them."

"She's married to Ramsay Bolton in Winterfell."

Jamie scoffed and smiled.

"Not her, that was a girl who somewhat looked like the brat. She might actually have been the little friend Sansa Stark drug down to the south with her. Little idiot fawned over Cersei to the point it even made me nauseated and I was fucking her."

Brienne reigned her horse to a halt.

"You mean to tell me Arya Stark is not in Winterfell?"

"As far as I know, she is not. Look we both know your taking me to my death, why exactly would I lie about that? Wouldn't it be in my best interest to claim to the high heavens that the girl is a Stark and offer to gallantly retrieve her along with you and return her to her mother? And I'm not. Although that does give me an idea on how to beg for both of our lives."

"Oh and whats that? Grabbing a serving girl and trying to pass her off?"

"No. See I saw and heard quite a bit while stuck in that little wooden cell Robb Stark stuck me in. Lady Catelyn might as well have had another child. One older than all of the ones she bore."

"Who would that be?"

"Edmure Tully. And I know where he is and I can get to him. He may have been an inept idiot but he had one thing in his favor. His people loved him, he was willing to do anything to protect his people. Now his wife and child are with him at Casterly Rock. I may not be a Gold Cloak any longer, which means I am once again my fathers heir. We need to get the Tully and his family out of there. Look I heard some whispers when you were talking with the red headed brat."

"That being?"

"The Greyjoy who lost the kingsmoot sailed for Meereen months ago, there's whispers of scrolls talking about wolves popping up in Taverns and Inns across the Riverlands and the Westerlands. Wolves are killing Lannister and Frey men, but they won't touch the small folk. There's been whispers for years about the girl in Essos having actual dragons. Now I've been hearing whispers that there are three direwolves spotted along the eastern coast of Westros, and the only direwolves south of the wall belonged to the Starks. For me that means one thing. There is a Stark either in the south or returning Westros. And if it’s the girl, it wouldn't surprise me one bit if she doesn’t come back with the Targaryen girl."

"Why? Why would that not surprise you at all?"

"Because its exactly what I would have done. And what her brother would have done. I remember the girl being cunning if clumsy, but what child of nine or ten years isn't? And if it is her and she's survived under everyone's noses for this long? I can only imagine what she's like. But there is one thing I have no doubt of, Nobel Eddard drilled Honor in to his children as much as any other parent would drill in how to use a fork. And that girl could befriend an angry sea monster if she put her mind to it."

"So we go to Casterly Rock. If I cannot return her daughters, yet, I can return her brother."

* * *

Weasel looked up from where she was stirring a cauldron over the fire, Robyn was asleep against a sack of potatoes in the corner. His attitude had improved over the weeks that he had been with them. The Blackfish had seen to it that all of the children were being taught how to defend themselves, and it had taken several losses and outright thrashings for the boy to start to realize that he was no longer special and if he wanted to eat he needed to get his act together.

_Blackfish said the boy reminded him of someone called Edmure. The Lady had flinched at that name and turned her angry gaze on the older man._

_"Where is Edmure?"_

_"I don't know, when he snuck me out of Riverrun he mentioned that he was being taken to Casterly Rock to keep his people in line. The boy may have been an embarrasment when it came to commanding the men and in battle but he was well on his way to being loved by his people. He put the safety of the smallfolk above his own life. He fully expected to be killed when he spent all day making sure I could get free. He may be there of who knows where by now."_

_The Lady had looked almost sad there for a moment before looking hard at the boy as Jeyne smacked his hand with a spoon yet again._

_"You can't kill Lysa's child Cat."_

_"Her inaction killed mine!"_

_"Which one Cat? Tywin Lannister and Roose Bolton killed Robb, Theon Greyjoy killed Bran and Rickon, no one knows how Arya died. Sansa however still lives, she's running about with that little snake from you childhood. You still have one child yet living, and according to young Mya, she may have had a hand in your sisters death and was actively poisoning your nephew. Lysa was a monster in many ways, but what she did or did not do was not the cause of your families pain. That fault lies solely at the feet of Cersei Lannister and Theon Greyjoy. If you cannot see the boy without seeing his parents, then at least look for Jon Arryn."_

The click of the door shutting caught Weasel from her musings as she looked over to see Mya slipping into the room and moving twoards the fire. It was getting colder at night.

"Welcome back."

"Thank you. I'll be around for a while. Got word that I need to be around here for a while."

"Word from who?"

"The man who saved my little brother."

"You have a brother? Thought you were a bastard and all on your own."

"I am, but I knew who my father was. Every so often a little bird would pass me information from a spider. The last bit I got before now what that the hands had been killed for looking into my brother and the spider was getting him out of the city. Now I get word that he's alive and I need to be here for what's coming. B'sides it isn't safe to be round the Eerie right now, they know Robyn is missing but he aint dead. There may be a rumor that he's with his family, which everyone is taking to mean the Tully locked up in Casterly Rock or the Blackfish. I may have also been told that we need to see if they have any of the old dragon stuff hidden away. Word is they're back and soon to be on the move."

"I remember being told stories about them.. Vis..Visenya and Rae something? She liked Visenya the most I think. I remember that name the most."

"Your mother?"

"No, the one who saved me. I was so little I can't really remember her face, but sometimes when I dream I can see her eyes and hear her stories again. Bad men took the boys with us and I ran and ran until I found the old couple that took me in, then they died too."

"Do you remember her name?"

Weasel nodded.

"Arry."

* * *

Daenerys watched Asha and Arya's faces as they read over the scrolls that have made their way to her.

"I can't believe that crazy bitch would go that far."

"Even in my worst nightmares I didn't think she was capable."

Tyrion stared out the window, silent and motionless, his face wet with tears.

"Lord Lannister? What are your thoughts."

He sighed and turned to face the three young women at the table, suddenly feeling very old. Davos sat off to Arya's side with his head in his hands, staring hard at the dark wood at the table. He could only imagine the older man was reliving his own brush with the green wildfire during the Battle of the Blackwater.

"I knew Cersei was strongly interested in how much of the stuff I had found beneath the city. It had been there for decades at that point, certainly placed before the Rebellion. All of the barrels had a mark of the three headed dragon etched on them. They were everywhere, I ordered the pyromancers and maesters to destroy what was left but I know they hadn't gotten far before I was relieved of my duties."

Dany looked up sharply.

"It was all through to tunnels beneath the city? Why would someone… by the gods. He really was mad wasn't he?"

Tyrion blinked at the stunned queen.

"I'm not following."

"Barrels of wildfire scattered in mass under the entirety of Kings Landing? All placed before the rebellion and marked with the Dragon symbol. You’ve all told me how mad my father was, how he invited the Starks to Kings landing to treat regarding Lyanna's return only to publicly execute them. Ser Barristan said he saw enemies everywhere and refused to give up the city. It would make complete sense for him in his madness. He placed the wildfire to destroy Kings Landing in its entirety at his whim."

Tyrion stared at the girl in shock, even Davos looked up in surprise, yet Arya and Asha both nodded.

"Yes it makes sense."

"There were no living pyromancers who knew how to make it, they only had notes from their dead masters. I suspect once he hand the barrels in place the ones who made it were killed so they couldn’t use it against him, and with the concentration I found if he lit one barrel the explosion would have lit all the ones around it and so on until the entire city was gone. He wouldn't let anyone take the city, he'd destroy it himself before that. Cersei would do exactly the same. Greedy magpie that she is."

Dany nodded and looked to Arya.

"I have also received word from Lord Varys. Tommen wishes to abdicate and return to Casterly Rock. You were right, the boy wants nothing to do with being a King. Add to that I have word that the people of fleabottom have vanished. Seems even the small folk have a limit to the madness they are willing to endure."

"They don't want to be slaves again. Margaery gave them hope of being treated decently but my sister will work them to death for her own comfort. She only cares about that damn throne. Joffrey hated it but if I know Tommen he supported her completely."

"I think I would have liked this girl. Shame. Bout you are right Lord Lannister, the people of Westeros have been subjugated for far to long and kept under the heels of their lords and wardens. It both worked and failed in that it has protected and benefitted the people when they have a just Lord at the helm and destroyed them when a greedy one is in charge. They get no say in their laws but are subject to them. So what I suggest is this, give each region a chosen body of small folk to take issues to the council of their regions lords once or twice a year, with the lord Paramount sitting at the head. They pass whatever laws or justice need to be handled and once a year the Lords Paramount bring everything to me for a yearly council, no more of this Wardens not checking in with the Crown for years at a time."

Arya blinked at her.

"It takes months to get from the North to Kings Landing, that would require the Warden to be away for months at a time constantly."

"Something to think on more then. That still leaves how we get the support we need from the ruling houses. The North I know needs to be retaken, and my men will help you with that. You mentioned the Riverlands being under the rule of the Tully's until the Frey's broke guest rights. What is your plan there Lady Stark? In the time I have known you I have come to the understanding that the Frey's will soon be wiped off the face of Westeros but that will leave us with a power vacuum at the Twins."

"Not quite. My Uncle Edmure still lives, Tyrion informs me that he is being held at Casterly Rock along with his wife and child. If my uncle has done his duty to his wife, I can assume that there will be a second child shortly. Restore my Uncle to the seat at Riverrun, his eldest will inherit that seat, the second son will be half Frey by blood so they can inherit the twins. Until then put a castellan that we can trust in place. As for the Frey's, I do have plans for how to deal with them, but only the ones involved in the betrayal of my family. I won't kill the innocent women and children."

"So that settles that then hm? Starks to the North, Tully's in the Riverlands, Tyrion you and your nephew will take over the Westerlands, I will have the Crownlands until such time as I move the capital. The Stormlands, Ser Davos you said that Shireen should be Lady of the Stormlands?"

The old man nodded.

"She's a good and kind lady, cares about her people, not power. She'll be a good leader for you there."

"Good, that just leaves the Reach and Dorne. I will go to the reach myself, the Tyrells have always been allies to the Targaryen's and I can only assume that after having his family wiped out the Lord Willas Tyrell will be most apt for some revenge. Dorne is what worries me. They have never been conquered and my understanding is that they are in a state of some turmoil after the death of the Viper. After I go to the Reach I shall go there. By then I should think you will have been able to retake Winterfell and install one of you as warden. I don't much care which one just get a Stark in that castle, then make your way down and spread the grain as evenly as you can."

Asha smirked.

"The Iron islands…."

Dany glared at the woman.

"Yes I know the Iron Islands want to be free, fine. No more raving or reaping along my shores or I will send Drogon after you."

A knock at the door caught everyones attention as a handmaid hurried into the room.

"Khalessi, you and Wolf woman need to come. Two people have come and the small wolf attacked the man."

Arya shot up.

"Rickon attacked someone? He's with Gendry."

She shot out of the room at a sprint with Davos hot on her heels not caring if any of the others were following. She could hear the yelling from the courtyard as she ran down the halls. She could see Thoros with his arms wrapped around the sobbing Rickon while Gendry stood in front of them legs braced apart with the fiercest look on his face.

"Gendry? What's going…"

"You! No your supposed to be dead!"

Arya skidded to a stop beside the irate blacksmith, all of the blood in her body suddenly rushing to her feet.

"J…Jeyne? Jeyne Poole?"

The scared and thin woman shrieked and tried to dive for Arya but the old man beside her caught her arm.

"No! I am Lady Arya Stark, I am the Wardeness of the North. You are nothing you unnatural bit of trash. You weren't Sansa's sister, I was. You had everything and you ran away so I took it. I took your name and I took your place and look what he did to me for it! You are worthless, you are nothing. You should have never been born then I could have been Sansa's only sister, she wanted me not you! No one ever wanted you."

"Shut your fucking mouth woman."

Arya hadn't even realized she was curling up on herself until Gendry's hand came to rest on her shoulder and forced her back up right, his Blue eyes burned with rage and for a small moment Arya feared that rage was directed at her. That he could finally see how worthless and small she really was. All of her training with the Faceless men was gone, all of her practicing with the Hound and Syrio fled her mind and suddenly she was that little girl who just wanted her sister to love her. His hand on her shoulder pulled her tightly against his side, comforting, protecting, grounding. She could feel his body tremble with restraint.

"She is worth more than you will ever know. Who the fuck are you? Who the fuck do you think you are to treat her this way? This girl who watched her father die on false charges, who cared for orphans in the muck and rain of the Riverlands, who helped free men from Harrenhal. This woman who saw her brothers headless body tied to a horse with his direwolfs head in its place. Who the fuck do you think you are to say a damn word against Arya fucking Stark."

Arya could see the fear in Jeyne's eyes as she looked at Gendry, he was huge and he was angry, looking so much like the bull he favored years ago. His hands on her were calming and steadying. She took a deep breath and wiped at the tears that had surfaced. All it hand taken was the mere sight of the girl to reduce her to that upset little girl who would go running to Jon.

_Oh Jon…. I miss you._

She took a deep breath and spoke, her voice as cold and clear as a Northern Morning in Winter, in spite of how badly her body shook her voice was steady.

"Her name is Jeyne Poole. She was the daughter of my fathers friend, he died in Kings Landing with my father. Jeyne was Sansa's closest companion, and my tormentor, for my entire childhood. She never missed an opportunity to humiliate and try to destroy me. And now it seems she has tried to take my name. But who is this man with you. I don't recognize him."

Gendry's hands flinched on her shoulders as the mention of what Jeyne put her through as a child. Jeyne was a lowborn who thought themselves to be high based on the friendship of one sister and the devastation of another. His attention was consumed between calming Arya and refraining from doing something reckless, as such he was not expecting Rickon to break Thoros' hold on him and launch himself at the old man again.

"I'll fucking kill you kraken scum!"

The man simply curled up in a ball while the boy slammed his fists into any spot he could. Gendry strode forward and yanked the wriggling boy up by the collar of his shirt and held him there like a spitting cat before handing him back to Thoros. Jeyne moved away as Gendry had moved, and so Arya followed him to help the man up. She thought he was familiar but beneath all of the scaring on his face she couldn't be sure until she saw his eyes, and her heart stopped as her ears filled with a curious humming. Asha Greyjoy came running into the courtyard only to confirm her fears.

"Theon?"

"Hello Arya."

Arya had imagined this day, seeing the one who betrayed Robb and led to his death, and sent her baby brothers on the run like animals. She had imagined saying so many things, asking so many questions of the man she once considered a brother, but she felt nothing but peace as she felt the bones in her hand crack as the man's nose gave way and he slumped to the ground whimpering and bleeding as Asha skirted around her to comfort her brother. The burn of the broken bones felt glorious as Gendry pulled her fist to his chest and very slowly uncurled her fingers. Whatever words he spoke were so very faint under the humming. His hand on her cheek drew crying grey eyes up to his furious blue, the familiar color soothing her fear and tension.

"Who is he Arya?"

"The one who betrayed Robb. He was my father's foster son, I considered him family, pack."

Gendry's eyes blazed for a moment at the mention of that word, he knew what it meant to Arya and to know the wretch behind him had broken that trust and it had gotten her brother killed, and it had meant that everything Arya had suffered after she was taken by the Hound was because of this mans choice. He turned a vicious glare on the fallen man and stepped towards him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from Asha.

"Stay away from the Starks or I'll crush your skull in my hands."

He dropped him and turned to lead the shaking woman away, scooping the still wriggling Rickon out of Thoros arms and heading for the forge. Arya needed the heat, Rickon needed to hit something, and Gendry needed them safe where he could see them both. Thoros and Davos exchanged looks and both men turned to follow the small makeshift family while Dany dealt with the angry Sea Queen.

* * *

Summer woke them before the howling did.

The large dire wolf sprang from a dead sleep to nearly tear the door down with his paws. His tail caught the startled Jon in the chest and sent him staggering back into the corner. Satin looked at Bran and very slowly made his way around the excited animal and pushed him back far enough that he could get the door open. Summer bolted through the opening and the faint song of howls reached their ears. Jon and Satin dressed quickly and ran out behind him and climbed to the top of the gates to see what was going on. They passed Meera who was heading for their chamber smiling. In the weak predawn light, they could only barely make out the treeline. Stannis joined them with a look of concern.

On the outside of the gates nothing stirred but still Jon smiles.

"Open the gates. Let Summer out."

The Wildings watching the gates stared up at him.

"He's got company. Leave the gates open."

The door creaked open and before Stannis could ask what was going on Summer shot out into the clearing in time for a streak of black to barrel into him, from the trees came a loud howl and a shape blending in with the snow almost perfectly, the two other males turned as the white wolf joined the tumble of yips and growls. Then she came, slow and calmly the large tawny grey wolf made her way slowly towards the pile of her brothers. Summer stood and shook off his brothers before trotting over to the large she wolf. He pawed gently at her nose and was rewarded with a lolling tongue and a playful bow before she tumbled into the fray with the other two.

"Look at the woods Jon."

Interspersed amongst the trees were smaller wolves, hundreds of smaller wolves.

"Nymeria's pack. Arya sent them home. I've used the crows as much as I dare but things are starting to fall into place for this. The Dragon Queen and our sister have reached an accord and have planned out how to get Westeros through the winter. But they don't know what is coming from the North Jon."

Bran's voice carried through the courtyard as the gates parted farther to allow the four massive wolves back within the walls. Nymeria and Shaggydog immediately running to his side to sniff him from head to foot, their eyes flashing from yellow to grey and from green to blue.

"I'm alright you two. I'm safe with Jon."

Nymeria's grey eyes shot open and her head whipped around at the name. Her eyes widened when they landed on Jon and the man was summarily knocked backwards to be smothered in shaggy tawny fur. The massive wolf shook and whined as Jon wove his gloved hands through her fur.

"I'm alright little one. I'll be better once your safe."

Bran smirked as Nymeria's eyes returned to golden yellow and she moved off of Jon to wrestle with her brothers by one of the bonfires.

"She's like us then. She can warg?"

Bran nodded.

"She can use it in a way I haven't imagined. She can slip into an animals skin and still fight so long as the animal can see her."

"Lord Stark, what is the meaning of this!"

Stannis stormed down only to be met with furious snarls as the wolves lined up between him and the pair of Starks and Meera. Jon laid a calming hand on Ghost's head and patted Shaggydog's neck as the black wolf stared hard at Shireen who appeared fascinated by the animals.

"My sister and brother are alive. And if I'm correct on their way here. It'll be by ship otherwise these two wouldn't have left their sides."

Jon's grey eyes met Brans water blue both men bearing wide smiles.

"Send the ravens Bran. The wolves are returning."


	11. In my life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gendry meets his brother, Arya faces Theon, Jamie betrays his family, creepy people are creepy, Bran sees things he really wishes he hadn't and a pair of lost wolves finally make it home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lotta ground to cover in this one! I hope I made it all fairly coherent. Now as for the scene with Sansa, that it 100% made up. But yeah. Were finally getting everyone back on the same continent.

As they prepared to leave Mereen for Westeros, Theon told Asha about a man who had been send with them from the Wall with specific instructions to speak with Dany and if possible Arya. Which the man was finding difficult as the Northern contingent had closed ranks around the stricken wolf. Davos has put out word looking for all of the Northerner's who may have fled the Bolton's or the Lannister's after Robb Starks death. Slowly more and more ragged, hardy men with dark hair made their way to the port to sign on. Many took one look at Rickon and bent the knee, men of all houses from Manderly to Karstark and Umber. Men who faced Arya and disavowed their kin who had sided with the Boltons. She stared them all down with Gendry standing beside her.

Within a few weeks of returning to Daenerys side, Ser Jorah noticed the signs of Greyscale appearing along his arm and immediately begged Dany to allow one of her Unsullied to kill him. Thoros however told him there was someone in Old Town who might be able to help him, not a maester not quiet, but someone he had seen in his fires walking alongside Jon Snow at one point. Danyerys told him to seek out this man and to return to her side when he could. He was also given a letter to send by raven when he could.

Davos also managed to secure a small surprise for Gendry, much to the mans surprise. A qhoric blacksmith was brought in to see if he could translate the book that Tobho had left him, and the pair spend the weeks between translating and going over the recipes until Gendry could confidently say he had the recipe and spells to not only reforge Valyerian steel, but with the help of Dany's dragons, could very possibly create new steel but it was only a theory at the moment. Davos had been grave when he told Gendry that at the first chance they had to test it out, they needed to be sure, because the North would need all of the Valyerian Steel it could get its hands on. He hadn't explained further than that, saying Jon would be able to tell them more. Three days before they were due to leave, a cloaked figure made their way across the courtyard to the forge where Gendry was working on a pair of bracers for Rickon, just enough to provide some extra support when using his axes. Arya and Rickon were in the training yard with Grey Worm, with Rickon observing Arya's skill with a staff against Grey Worms lance, one of his commanders Black Fly would be accompanying Arya and a portion of the Unsullied and some of the sturdier Dothraki on their trip to the North. Davos and Arya had whispered amongst themselves that the Dothraki and the Wildlings would either get along famously or kill each other.

The cloaked figure stood in the doorway watching Gendry hammer at the bracers, checking that the metal was shaping correctly, when a thin blade appeared at their throat.

"Who are you?"

Asha Greyjoy pressed up against the back of the person, aiming to prevent them from striking at her as she assesed the person. Gendry looked up at her voice and his grip on the hammer tightened. Asha pulled the cloaks hood back and shoved the person away from her.

Gendry blinked at the boy before him, he was around Arya's age give or take a few years, but certainly younger than him. The boy stared slightly open mouthed at the smith, completely ignoring the knife pointed at him.

"You look just like him."

Gendry's head tilted slightly.

"Like who?"

"Our father. Robert Baratheon. I'm Edric, your brother."

Gendry stood there for a moment.

"Edric… Storm?"

Edric jerked when he said his name, almost shocked.

"You know who I am?"

"No. I know someone put a contract on your life with the Faceless Men of Braavos. My betrothed was able to cancel the contract because they put it out for me as well."

Edric's eyes widened.

"The only people who could cancel a contract with the Faceless Men is…"

A second blade found its way against Edric's chest, as Arya moved around him silently to stand beside Gendry, Needle's polished steel glinting in the sunlight.

"Either the one who started the contract or another Faceless Man. Who are you."

Gendry grunted.

"Apparently my brother. Says his name is Edric."

Arya cut her eyes over to Asha and the pair lowered their blades.

"Davos is inside going over preparations with Tyrion. Take him to him."

The kraken queen drug the boy into the pyramid while Arya watched Gendry return to his fire.

"So you have a brother then."

"Looks like it."

"You don’t seem happy about that. You don't like him?"

Gendry grunted and glared at her.

"Don't know him. But he had the name, he was recognized."

" You don't like anyone do you? His having a last name doesn’t mean a damn thing."

" Don't it? And I do so like people. I like you and Rickon."

Arya smiled softly and shoved him away from the fire to wrap her arms around his waist.

"I told you Rickon would grow on you."

"Aye like a moss, just like you did. At least he hits less."

"No he just bites."

Gendry huffed out a laugh and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

"Are you alright? You seem calmer than the last few weeks. I know dealing with all the new men has been bothering you."

Arya shrugged and laid her head against his chest.

"Had to see each one and make sure their face is really theirs. I don't trust the Guild not to send someone even after getting rid of Jaquen. I just want to go home."

"Your going to make it this time, I swear. If I have to carry you and Rickon there myself you two will make it home. Now stop this and tell me what the forge is like there."

Arya stepped away from him with a laugh Rickon joined them as they watched the man named Edric hurry away from the pyramid stopping only to cast a glance and a nod at his new found elder brother. Davos walked towards them looking older than before.

"He's refusing to come back to the Stormlands. Seems he's made a life of his own on Lys."

Arya's eyes narrowed.

"Lys? Doubtful. They don't particularly like outsiders beyond what coin they have to spend. Ill get some information on what he's been up to down there. But for now we need to focus on leaving."

Rickon bounced on the balls of his feet.

"Are we really going home Aya?"

Arya smiled down at her brother, suddenly reminded of how very young he was, how young they all were.

"We're going to Jon first. He's at the Wall. We go there first, gather what Northern Forces we can and then we retake our home."

The little boy whooped and ran off in excitement. To the amusement of the others around him, Grey Worm quickly caught the boy by the back of the neck and dragged him to the training area to work off his sudden excitement with little Missandei laughing along beside them.

"Well Ser Davos? Have you and Tyrion planned and plotted our ways around Westeros and back?"

"That… man is going to drive me to drink and he already does enough for the both of us. He's smart I'll give him that but the man never shuts up."

Arya smirked, but her face fell as she noticed Theon hovering just beyond the open door. Gendry saw him as well and started forward, but Arya's small hand held him in place.

"Come in Turncloak. Say what you need to say and get away from me."

Theon shuffled in, hunched and jerkily. His arms were wrapped around a white bundle which he cautiously held out to Ser Davos.

He stared hard at Arya's boots for a moment before forcing himself to stand upright and look her in the eyes.

"I can never atone for what I did to Robb, and to the boys. Your family took me in, were kind to me, trained and fed me like your own. And I betrayed them. I betrayed Robb, I betrayed everything your father taught me, and I betrayed you. I am sorry, I know it means nothing, but I am. I managed to hide those outside the castle during one of Ramsay's hunting parties and was able to get it when Jeyne and I fled."

Arya stared at the man for a moment before she spoke, her eyes welling up with tears.

"You were pack, Theon Greyjoy. You were our family. You betrayed Robb, drove two little boys from their home and let that Bolton monster take it. I hold you personally responsible for what happened to my home, and my brothers. Robb trusted you and you stabbed him in the back. House Greyjoy betrayed House Stark. I wanted to kill you for years Theon. But I see what has been done to you and I think that’s a worse punishment than death, having to live with the evidence of your cowardice every single day. But know this, if you ever return to Winterfell, know that you will not leave it alive."

Theon nodded. Arya wiped at her eyes and nodded.

"Now, tell us everything you know about Ramsay Bolton."

Off to one side, Davos slowly unfolded the white fabric, recognizing it for the remains of a large banner adorned with a large grey wolf in mid stride. As Arya and Gendry listened to Theon, Arya waved Black Fly in as well, and Davos very quietly slipped out and down to the docks where the sails were being completed. One of the seamstresses looked at the fabric and nodded with a small smile.

"I know this symbol. House Stark. Knew a good man from that house once."

Davos looked at the woman.

"It’s for the two Starks at the Pyramid with Daenerys. They are sailing North, to reclaim their home."

"Tell me, are they Eddard Stark's children?"

Davos' eyes narrowed at the woman.

"Aye. Who are you?"

"Once upon a time, I was called Ashara Dayne."

* * *

Jon sat alone in his solar, Ghost and Nymeria were out hunting, Shaggy Dog and Summer were prowling around the outer edges of the fortress and port town which was growing by the minute. Word had spread through the Wildlings that Jon had ordered the passages at East Watch opened to allow them through. Each new group brought word of Others getting closer and closer to the wall. Whispers of Undead direwolves and dire bears were increasing as well, and a large spider that looked to be made of pure ice had been sighted amongst the trees. Word from Castle Black reported similar occurrences, however they were suddenly receiving many Ravens asking about the Starks being at the wall.

He set down the bits of parchment and took a deep drink of his ale as Satin came in.

"Talk to me Jon. What's going on in that head of yours."

"I'm tired of waiting. I want to kill something. I know my siblings are safe barring Sansa, but I want them home and I want them in Winterfell."

Satin nodded.

"Have you dreamt of your wolf lately? You usually feel better after you've done so."

Jon shook his head.

"Not since I came back. I warged into him when I died but since then I've been afraid to."

"Try it tonight, let him hunt for more than just food. The smaller wolves are preying on the bandits we had been getting reports of, seems they're avoiding certain castles and targeting others. They're making their presence known and we're starting to get ravens. Seems a Lord Reed wishes to speak with you most ardently but is concerned about travelling around Winterfell."

"Reed. Meera and Jojen's father?"

"Aye that one" Satin handed Jon the small scroll.

"Seems he has something you should have and he has information about your mother."

Jon stared at the fire for a moment.

"The last thing my father ever said to me was that when he returned North he would come to the Wall and tell me about my mother. Somedays I wonder if he ever actually planned on telling me anything."

"Well to be fair Jon, he never did make it back to the North. No one knows what happened to his bones after Kings Landing. Now, what are we going to do about keeping Lord Tyrell and Lady Mormont from strangling ' King Stannis'. I think the man's own daughter would overlook it at this point."

Jon narrowed his eyes at Satin's attempt at a jest. He needed something to take the edge off, and as he watched the other man remove his numerous outer layers and warm his hands by the fire, Jon had an idea about just how to do that.

* * *

The night before they were due to leave, Arya found herself restless. She slipped from her chambers and paced the training yard in the darkness, she wandered around the small garden with its flowered bushes and climbing vines. At the far corner of the garden was a single small tree, eventually her feet lead her there. Sitting under the tree, staring up at the stars Arya whispered her list " Ser Gregor, Ser Illyen Payne, Ser Meryn Trant, Dunsen, Ramsay Bolton, Queen Cersei. Valar Morghulis"

Her eyes closed as the cool night breeze swirled around her, the strong bright scents of the garden's flowers slowly slipping away to a scent that could only be described as cold. The soft grass beneath her grew padded, cold and wet. Ayra's eyes snapped open. She was sitting at the base of a Wierwood tree, the red sap slowly trailing down like bloody tears. Under her was nothing but white snow, and behind her a fallen log, much like the one her father had sat upon so long ago.

"Hello Arya, do you mind if I join you?"

The soft voice was accompanied by quiet steps, and soon a woman appeared from the white mist around her. Her brown leather breaches and her soft boots topped with rabbit fur lead up to a thick grey woolen tunic. Her long dark hair fell in braids down her back, with several smaller ones tied together into one large one and her dark eyes were warm.

"Your Lyanna Stark aren’t you. My Aunt."

The woman smiled and nodded before extending her hand to the girl.

"I am. You look so like my brother Ned. You have his eyes."

Arya smiled softly as she stood to face her aunt.

"Things are going to be hard for you young one. There is no Stark in Winterfell, Ned and Robb's bones do not lie in the crypts as they should. A monster stalks the halls of our home, and a mad lion sits on the Iron Throne."

"I am ready for the fight. We are going home, Daenerys is going to take back her throne and my brothers and I will take back Winterfell."

Lyanna smiled sadly.

" The need for a Stark remaining in Winterfell isn't just a fairy story child. There are deep magics and promises that were made thousands of years ago. The presence of our blood keeps the magics strong, but with each broken vow the magics weaken. Your wedding your Baratheon will repair two of them. The promise of a Stark bride to a Targaryen and the promise of me to Robert."

"I don't understand."

Lyanna reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind Arya's ear and wrapped her arm around the girls shoulders.

"Long ago a Stark bride was promised to a Targaryen and she was never wed. I was promised to Robert and I did not do the honorable thing and our family suffered for it. Innocents across Westeros suffered for it. Your Gendry has both Baratheon and Targaryen blood in him. Even if he takes the Stark name and becomes a Stark, it will suffice to repair the damage I did."

Arya nodded.

"The gods will accept him taking our family name won't they? He is bastard born."

"The old gods care nothing for the word Bastard. He has been pack to you for several years. He knows you and he sees you. He is stubborn, and loyal and honorable. All things that we Starks hold dear. And if it helps, Brandon approves of him."

Arya blinked at her.

"My.. My brother Brandon?"

"Him too. Brandon and I have checked on you when you were near a godswood or a wierwood, but those times have been few and far between. You are not alone wolf girl. You never will be, and don't think you need to be like your sister, that’s not what being a lady is. That’s being an ornament, meant to be admired then ignored. You are more like your father and your mother than you think. My time is short and I must ask something of you."

"Of course."

"Be there for Jon. What he has been through, what he will have to face when the time comes. He will need those around him who see who he is. He will need you to ground him. And Arya, remember, none of you are who you were the day you left Winterfell. Not you, your brothers, not Sansa. Be wary."

"Always. The lone wolf dies…"

"But the Pack survives. Safe travels my niece."

Arya's eyes slowly opened as quiet footsteps approached her. A few feet form her stood Theon Greyjoy, and for once she didn’t feel the fiery rage at the sight of him. Instead quiet grief filled her, grief of a betrayed little sister. As much as he had been an ass, he had been like another brother to her.

"Are you alright Lady Stark?"

"Don't call me that. It's Arya to you."

Theon nodded and moved to the side. As if to make himself as unobstuctive as possible.

"Why?"

"I.. I saw you walking out in the dark alone. It's not safe."

"No Theon. Why?"

His eyes slowly looked up from the ground to meet her steel Grey, in the dark of the night they almost had a blue sheen to them.

"My f-father. I needed to prove myself to him. I had to pay the iron price."

"With our home Theon? With our baby brothers lives?"

"I didn't want to! I had to!"

"Yes, you did Theon. You wanted Winterfell, what it represented. Your imprisonment. Knowing that if your father put a toe out of line my father would be dutybound to take your head. Don't forget I knew you back then, my memory hasn't changed. You did it because you wanted what you could never have. You were never your father's heir and it ate at you. You made your choice, you chose to betray Robb and destroy our home. You made the choice, now own it. You’ve told me about who Ramsay is, how he hunts. How death and pain are a game for him. You knew the secrets of Winterfell, its how you took your Ironborn in, now tell me. Did you show him?"

Theon whined low in his throat and his hands fisted in the grey hair at his temples.

"No, Reek never showed him the passages and tunnels. Theon knew but Reek didn’t."

"Good. Now leave me be. Do not come near me again, because next time I won't stop Gendry from crushing your skull."

The furious blacksmith stepped from the shadows along the wall, appearing as if from no where to loom over the broken man. Theon squeaked and bolted. Gendry held out his hand to Arya and lifted her up.

"Taking a nap under the stars? Thought you would have had your fill of that after the Riverlands."

Arya allowed him to pull her close and looped her arm around his waist.

"Needed to think, fell asleep, had a dream."

"Feel better?"

"Aye. Ready to go home."

"You never told me that the man Jon sent wanted with you."

"He only told me to make sure we had plenty of steel with us and if we could find dragonglass to bring it along. I haven't heard of it before but Davos says there is a cave full under Dragonstone. He seemed very excited when it was mentioned you were a smith and that dragons existed again. Dany is going to humor him and is sending some of the former slaves who have experience mining to Dragonstone to mine it up for us. Didn't really say what for just that I needed to talk to Jon about it."

"Hmm. And whats really bothering you?"

"Mainly? My dream. So many things are unclear, so many things unknown. Questions and answers that I thought were right seem wrong."

"You afraid."

"I'm terrified Gendry. This is so much worse than when we sailed here. Here it was just our deaths, now we're planning to be part of a full scale invasion of our own homeland. There's so many things that need to go right and so many that can go wrong. The moment we sail to Eastwatch, the Boltons will know and will try to rally their loyal vassals. This isn't fighting bandits and random patrols of Lannister's in the Riverlands, or taking out a mark for the Guild. This is what Robb was good at, not me."

"Robb led because he had to. You lead because you have to. You are the oldest Stark, woman or not, it has to be you at the head. Ill be right beside you, I always will be."

Arya smiled up at him and as the sun began to peek over the horizon, she jumped up to wrap her arms around his neck in a tight hug and pressed a hard kiss to his lips.

A few hours later when the white sail with the massive grey direwolf unfurled on the mast, Arya squeezed his hand as she fought to keep the tears from falling. Rickon stared at it in awe.

Daenerys walked up beside them, Asha at her side.

"It is time Lady Stark, the tide is with us."

Arya nodded.

"Winter is coming."

"With Fire and Blood."

"What is dead may never die."

Gendry grunted softly when Arya planted an elbow in his ribs.

"Go on then Baratheon."

"And Ours is the Fury."

Thoros shook his head from the deck of the ship behind them with Davos.

"Well that was needlessly dramatic."

The onion knight doubled over laughing.

* * *

Jamie spent the night before their arrival at Casterly Rock cleaning up as much as he could, and Brienne was convinced to polish her armor as well. The comfortingly tedious work reminded her so much of Podrick, she flinched with the memory of the boy. He was alive, but stuck with the Brotherhood under the keeping of one of their men. He would be freed when she either handed over Jamie Lannister to die, or produced one of Lady Stoneheart's daughters. She feared all she had been able to do was delay the inevitable for the boy.

At dawn the pair rode into the main courtyard at Casterly Rock to be met by Lady Genna Lannister, Jamie's aunt. A quick welcome and they were swept into Tywin's old study. Genna had long ago taken it over as her own when her brother and his children had all but permanently relocated to Kings Landing.

"I supposed you'll be taking your place as the Lord of Casterly Rock then?"

"Aye Aunt, but I have some things to finish in the Riverlands. Things to make right."

"Hmm nasty business in the Riverlands. All of it. My ever so smart brother did nothing but finish dragging our family's honor into the mud and get thousands of Westerlands men killed. And now your sister is burning people alive and throwing Lannister armor at anyone who stands still long enough and can hold a sword. On top of that we have our 'guests' that mad creature and the Fish's."

"Actually dear Aunt, that’s what I'm here to talk to you about. There's a problem with the small folk and the soldiers in the Riverlands, they're fighting back against the Frey's and demanding the return of the Tully's. I need to borrow Edmure and his wife for a bit, show their faces and remind their people to behave themselves."

"And the girl?"

"Well the Westerling girl does have to travel with Edmure. It is my own order, he seemed to calm her somewhat. I may have a new husband in mind for her, one that can curb her madness."

Within a week Jamie and Brienne were ready to ride, along with Edmure, Roslyn, their son and a gagged Jeyne Westerling in a cart. Edmure looked livid but said nothing as Jamie assisted his wife into the cart. One night as the group stopped between the border of the Westerlands and the Twins, Jamie handed Edmure a leather satchel containing his Tully armor.

"Why?"

"Had the armory keep it maintained. Your going to need it."

Edmure looked surprised, but the next morning the redheaded Lord rode beside Lord Lannister, with his armor gleaming in the sunlight, with a white direwolf stitched on the shoulder of his tunic. Men started disappearing from the escort at night, but neither Jamie nor Brienne ever commented on it. Then after crossing the bridge at the Twins, Jamie had made many excuses to the Lord as to why they could not stay the night, they made camp far enough away that while they could still see the towers in the distance, their little fires could not be see. Which is where Raynald found them.

Jeyne saw him first, stick thin and ill, covered in muck. But she knew her brother. He held her close against him and cried with her. Jamie had placed a bowl for the man with no comment.

"I should kill you."

"I'm sure you could try. But if anyone here has the right to kill me, it's Tully. Everyone thinks you died that night, but no body was ever found. How did you survive?"

"I saw the little girl arrive. I tried to make it to her but a huge man grabbed her and rode out of the fighting. I made it to the river and stayed hidden in the trees."

Brienne and Edmure's heads snapped up.

"The Stark girl?"

"Which one?"

"The one Robb told me about, the one that was missing. Dark hair, dark eyes, long face like his but darker skinned. She tried to free Greywind after I got run off. Poor thing saw what they did to him."

"Arya. Her name was Arya."

Jeyne's quiet voice startled the others.

"Robb had always hoped that no word had meant she was alive somewhere and free. If she rode in that night and back out again, its possible she survived."

"Why are you still here Raynald? It's dangerous for you to be here."

"I couldn't leave him."

"Him? Him, who?"

Raynald motioned for Tully and Jamie to follow him, and slowly the pair did so, both fully convinced the man was mad. They approached a tree from which Raynald pulled a large bag stitched of animal fur, and from the bag he reverently removed a cracked but fully whole direwolf skull.

"By the gods, is this Greywind? You found his bones?"

"Not just his, I found King Robb's as well. Took me all this time to find the body, they buried him in shallow muck by the river, the poor wolf they threw on the pile with the soldiers."

Edmure gently took the bag and looked inside for a second before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Thank you for returning my nephew's bones to me. He deserves to be buried with his ancestors."

"I tried to find Lady Catelyn, but I couldn't find her anywhere. I'm afraid of what they did with her."

"Oh I'm sure she'll…. Turn up?"

Edmure snarled at the Lannister heir.

"That is my sister you speak of. Your father orchestrated the murder of her and her son. How dare you speak about her so flippantly."

"Lady Catelyn was a good woman. She released me to get her girls back remember? I swore a vow to get those girls back to her, and drug Lady Brienne in when I knew I was out of my depth. I intend to honor that vow. Hell, I planned on it then, I didn’t realize just how power mad my father and sister were. I should have but I didn't. We've seen the elder girl with in the last several months, I know she's alive and in the company of Peytr Bealish. We need you Lord Tully to remind your niece of her place and get her back to Riverrun once we get you three installed there."

Edmure blinked at the man.

"You're taking me back to Riverrun? You gave it to the Frey's."

"I wasn't lying when I told my aunt your small folk and farmers were rebelling against them and calling for the restoration of the Tully family. And the Lannister forces are needed elsewhere currently rather than peacekeeping for the family who broke Guests Rights."

"Oh? And why might that be."

"Rumor has it the sole surviving Targaryen is returning with three Dragons. That takes some priority over cranky farmers and angry villagers."

* * *

Baelish was confident they were safe here. Harrenhal. Such an ugly place, it had potential to be a grand palace and city, but the thought of the number of household servants needed to maintain the whole place was astounding. As it were, there were already to many faces and names for Sansa to deal with. The Castellan was too new, he kept looking to Sansa as though she had the answers, which she didn’t. Yes she had been taught by her mother how to manage a keep, but really what future queen needed to know that? She had known since she was young that she would be a queen one day, she was good and pretty and girls like that with her breeding ended up as queens.

Reality had been a far cry from that however, and Sansa had long ago learned that songs were for fools. She had also learned not to trust your servants to keep your secrets. They should be replaced often, and the couldn't be trusted. Servants had informed Joffery about her movements, her plans, what really happened in her marriage with the Imp. Servants had plotted against her in the Eryie, she would never forgive which ever servant had snuck that little brat out. Yet again her chance to rule was snatched from her. Sansa may be a pretty bird, but she wasn't stupid. She could see the way the kingdoms were splintering. Soon enough there would be an all out civil war, and if she played her cards right she could end up as queen of a kingdom. If she got what she wanted, she would be Queen in the North, it was hers by right after all. Robb had been her elder sibling, she was the next trueborn and they younger boys were all dead and her sister would be easily dealt with. That crown belonged to her, the North belonged to her.

Peytr was growing more and more concerned by the day, any talk of going North had suddenly stopped. Sansa knew she needed to get things going in the direction she wanted again, and she knew how to do it. She wasn’t naïve. Sansa knew Peytr was in love with her mother, with the memory of who she had been as a girl. She would catch him staring at her sometimes almost wistfully. She herself had no feelings for the man other than mild distaste, but she knew he could get her what she wanted. So, she started flirting. A touch here, a smile and a blush there, and soon enough the older man was eating out of her hand and the ten and nine year old woman knew that she could twist him how she wished.

"Lord Baelish?"

"Yes darling?"

"Do you think it would be possible to visit my sister? It might help quell some of the unrest that the crown is dealing with. And I do miss Arya dearly, I should like to meet her husband."

She watched curiously as the color drained from Peytr's face.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible child. It seems that the girl who was claimed to be your sister has fled Winterfell and your father's bastard child is rumored to have abandoned the wall and is attempting to retake Winterfell from the Bolton's."

"Jon always was partial to Arya. If Lord Bolton harmed her, I could certainly see him retaliating. However what Lord Bolton has forgotten is that Arya is the younger daughter. Winterfell is mine by right of primogeniture inheritance. And Jon is a mere bastard my father got on a tavern girl somewhere. Perhaps the Lords of the North should be reminded of the right way of things."

"You are set on this course dearest?"

"I want to go home Lord Baelish. Can you help me?"

The man signed and moved to stand. He took her hand and led her into his private study, where he unlocked a box and removed a small chest.

"What is this?"

"My darling. These are the bones of your father. I tried to get them to your mother when she was encamped with your foolish sibling in the Riverlands, but the boy wouldn't let me near her. I'm afraid this is as far as they ever made it. Now, Lord Bolton is of the North. He will understand the need to return your father's bones to Winterfell's crypts with his ancestors. We can use these as our passage to get into Winterfell, get the Lords gathered to honor the memory of you… good… father, then press the claim that as the elder daughter Winterfell should be yours by rights. But my dear it would look best if we had a husband to present with you. The Lords of the North will not take kindly to a Woman ruling them."

_They do well enough on Bear Island you sycophantic worm._

"I'm sure any house of the north would be more than willing to marry their son to the Heiress of Winterfell."

To his credit Peytr only flinched a little before gently kissing her on the cheek and excusing himself to give the young woman a moment alone with her father's remains.

Sansa gently opened the crate to gaze at her fathers bones. Her eyes fell to the skull, she gently reached in a ran her finger along the bone just below where the eye would have been as she remembered a story from when she was little. Her father had been working with a young horse in the yard and the colt had kicked him in the face when he was chasing Arya or Bran, she couldn’t remember which. She recalled Maester Lewin telling her father that it was broken, she asked what would happen to him. The maester had explained to her that bones that broke healed slowly, but they did heal and that sometimes the left a scar on the bone that you couldn't see on the outside. Sansa was horrified by the notions of scars on her handsome father's face, and the maester had calmed her by explaining that the scars would only be on the bone and wouldn't be able to be seen until long after death.

As she trailed her finger along the bone which had broken under the colts hoof, there was no scar. This wasn't her father's skull, this wasn't her father. But she was the only one who knew that. This was her key to taking back her home, and it would reunite the North under her. _As it should be._

The smile that crossed her face was sharp and feral. For once the girl actually felt like the wolf she was in her blood.

* * *

Jon smiled as he and Tormund sparred in the courtyard when the maester came shuffling in.

"Lord Stark! A raven for you."

Tormund sighed and stepped back, he hated the constant interruptions that the kneelers had to deal with. Jon's face broke out into a strange expression.

"Well what's this then? I cant tell if your happy or if you just shit yourself."

"Direwolf sails were seen passing White Harbor several days ago."

Tormund just stared at him as though that was supposed to have some meaning to him.

"My sister is almost home."

"Ah so the answer to my question is both then."

Jon smirked and swung at the laughing wildling.

* * *

Bran smiled as he watched the Maester take the raven scroll down to Jon. Meera and Satin were escorting him to the godswood. He had not worked with his powers for far to long. He knew he needed to focus, to learn as much as he could about the others, how to fight them. He was getting ready to attempt to look back to the Last Long Night, to see how the First Men and the old gods had dealt with them.

Once he was seated against the foot of the wierwood tree, not as ancient as the one at Winterfell, but it was connected to the others across Westeros. Summer and Nymeria moved around to lay against either side of him, keeping him warm and grounding him as he lost himself to the visions.

Looking around he could see if was standing in a great throne room, not the North as he had planned. Large banners bearing a red three headed dragon hung from every banner. A charred chain dangled from one wall, a scorch mark nearby, and Bran stumbled back in horror when he realized what he was looking at. The throne room in Kings Landing, and that scorch mark, the chain, his eyes shot to the ceiling and followed it down to where it wrapped around a pillar and lay coiled at the base. This was where his Grandfather died, where his uncle died.

_Why am I here?_

A noise caught his attention and he turned away from the horrible sight of where his family died, to see a man like creature stagger their way into the room towards the horrific throne. Behind him a young man bedecked in golden armor that was far too large for the boys frame slowly followed. The creature on the throne was thin and ragged, with gnarled fingers and long jagged claw like nails. A black crown sat a top his head but only barely. A thin man covered in burns scurried into the hall and knelt before the king.

"Everything is ready my king. The traitors have breached the palace gates and are attempting to force their way to your traitor son's woman and brats."

"Rhaegar is dead, he was weak, he is no dragon. Visyeries will be stronger. Let them get to the Dornish whore. They won't live long enough to put her brat on the throne. Wait until the armies are in the city gates, and then burn them. Burn Them All!!"

The golden armored youth behind him reacted in horror. He watched the burned man kneel and begin to move away. Bran could see the fear and conflict on the boys face. Bran could see the determination cross his eyes as he slid his sword from its sheath and into the side of the madman on the throne. The kings cry caught the pyromancers attention as Jamie left his sword in the kings ribs and ran after the stunned man with a small dagger in his hands. They pyromancer tried to run but the boy was faster despite the heavy armor he wore. He called to a Lannister man in the corridor and told him to take a group of quick men and find all of the other pyromancers and kill them. Don't let them take any fire beneath the palace.

Bran watched the man slowly turn and walk back to the throne and the now dead king. He gently pulled his sword from the corpse and laid the dead king on the floor, his robes arranged to give him some semblance of dignity, before seating himself on the throne and holding his sword across his lap. And so Bran Stark waited with Jamie Lannister, knowing the first person through the door would be his father. As the door opened, Bran looked up to see the white of the snow. Meera peered up at him from where she sat fletching arrows, Summer's fluffy head moved from laying beside him to rest in his lap.

" Did you see what you were looking for?"

"No… I saw something different. Something I needed to, but not what I was looking for."

Meera nodded and offered him a sip of water from the skin of water she kept inside her leathers to keep it from freezing. Bran took it gratefully before stretching his arms and shoulders before settling again and trying to reach the long night.

He found himself in a beautiful garden, he turned around trying to get a sense of where he was when he caught sight of a red braid streaming behind a running girl.

_Sansa?_

He chased after the girl, following her through the twisting hallways trying to keep up. The girl was crying as she ran, before finally coming to a stop outside a heavy wooden door carved with a fierce lion. Bran reached out to his sister, only slightly younger than he was now, as she wiped the tears from her eyes and knocked on the door.

The door opened and Bran stepped back in shock at the sight of Cersei Lannister stepping out, a bruise along her chin slowly turning yellow.

"Little Dove? What is it child? Come in, and tell me what has you so upset."

Bran slipped in behind his sister as the door swung closed.

"My father, my stupid father, he wants to leave Kings Landing! He wants to ruin everything!"

Cersei's face remained calm while Brans froze in terror.

_Oh Sansa no. No You didn’t!_

"Did he.. Did he say why my darling?"

"Just something about the truth needing to be told and that Kings Landing wasn't safe anymore. I don't want to leave. I love Joffrey, I want to have his babies as soon as I'm able." The silly girl fell into a new round of sobs as the Lion queen gently soothed and petted her.

"Don't worry sweetling. I will talk with your father, you will make Joffrey a good wife. I promise my little Dove, You will not leave Kings Landing."

Bran watched this with a look of horror, he tried to force himself to wake up, but as a shadow passed the room changed slightly. Sansa's dress changed color, and the bruise disappeared from Cersei's face only to appear on Sansa's. They were talking when an older man walked in, dressed in fine velvets with Tyrion Lannister right behind him.

"Now my dear, I need you to help me. Your brother has raised an army against Joffrey, their rightful King. I need you to appeal to your brother to lay down his arms and return home."

"I doubt Robb will listen to me but I will try."

"Good. And when that is finished, you and my son will get to work on an heir. Since he rose up in revolt your brother cannot be allowed to remain as Warden of the North so once you give my son an heir the pair of you will return to the North until your child is of age to take over the Wardenship."

Sansa nodded slowly, reached for the quill the man held out and began to write.

"Of course Lord Tywin."

Bran ran from the room.

As his eyes shot open, Nymeria jerked away just in time to avoid being vomited on. Satin reached the young man before Meera was able to. He held the boy as he retched again and again, only to break down in sobs.

"She betrayed him! She betrayed them both!"

"Who Bran?"

The name came out in a sob. "Sansa."

Meera shared a glance with Satin.

"Who did she betray?"

"Father. Robb. She betrayed them both to the Lannister's. She's the reason father is dead!"

Meera gently took Bran from Satins arms, the two direwolves began whining and trying to curl around the pair.

" Get Jon please quickly."

Satin ran faster than he could ever remember, intercepting Jon chasing a distressed Ghost.

"Your. brother. Godswood. GO!"

Jon didn’t say a word as he thundered past the man following his wolf. When Satin could breathe evenly again he returned to the Godswood to see the three wolves curled protectively around the sobbing young boy wrapped tightly in the arms of his brother. Jojen had wandered in and Meera was holding him close to her side.

The large female wolf raised her head and loosed an ear splitting howl soon followed by an answering howl from far off near the docks.

A page boy came running.

"Ships, Direwolf sails! They're pulling into the dock!"

Jon wiped his baby brother's face.

"It's alright Bran. Arya and Rickon, they're here. Finally."

Bran hiccupped and nodded allowing his big brother to help him into his chair. Summer rose and licked the remaining tears from the boys face until he finally smiled and pushed him away.

"Go on you. I know you all want to see them too."

Jon pushed the chair out to the docks and Bran gripped his hand as they watched the ship with a pristine white sail with a steel grey direwolf running across the middle. And there at the bow were two figures, a small boy and a short girl. The moment the gangplank was dropped in place the pair of figures bolted down and through the growing crowd. A man slowly followed the pair. One moment they were yards away on the docks and the next moment Rickon was firmly wrapped in Bran's arms, and Arya was clinging to Jon and sobbing. The large man slowly made his way to them followed by Davos, and a priest in red who was greeted by Anguy. The wolves jumped around, yipping and whining in joy. Jon refused to let go of Arya and the pair dropped to their knees as she reached for Bran and Rickon tried to wrap his little arms around all three at once. Jon looked up and to see Nymeria jump up to put her paws on the man's shoulders and stare into his face before licking him and laying her large head against his shoulder. Ser Davos was beside the man, using a piece of linen to wipe the tears from his eyes.

For the first time since he had died, Jon felt at peace.   
"Davos. Thank you. Thank you for finding them."

Davos smiled gently.

"Don't thank me. She got us here lad. Thank Gendry here from keeping her from jumping off the boat."

Arya huffed in annoyance.

"I just got excited when I saw Shaggy and heard the other wolves howls. I wasn't going to jump off the boat."

And with out a beat the man, Gendry, snorted.

"Yes you were."


	12. A heart full of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon learns that while much has changed about his sister, much remains the same. Brienne fulfills her promise to deliver Jamie to the Brotherhood without Banners, Sansa talks to a tree, Dany reaches Highgarden, and a wilding gets handsy with a Northron girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this has taken so long, had a lot of family things going on and it took a bigger toll on me than I had anticipated. There will be a time skip of a few weeks between this chapter and the next. Please Enjoy!

The air in the room was tense as Arya and Jon stared each other down, neither willing to concede on t point at hand. In the far corner of the room Shireen had commandeered her new cousin and was in the process of asking questions about every part of his life up to that point. Rickon and Jojen were off to another side comparing axes, while Davos and Stannis were engaging in a staring contest trying desperately to ignore Thoros and Tormund's drinking contest by the fire.

"I said no Arya."

"I don't recall asking for your permission."

"I am your brother Arya, your oldest brother. Robb's will legitimized me and…"

"And what Jon? Please tell me what any of that changes about my choice?"

"Dammit Arya, I said no!"

"Again I wasn't asking Jon. I was politely informing you of what is going to happen."

"See reason Arya."

Rickon glanced up.

"Your not going to win Jon, just give up."

"Your really okay with this? And you Bran? You’ve said nothing?"

Rickon just sighed while Bran chuckled from his spot by the fire keeping count for Thoros and Tormund.

"Leave me out of this Jon."

Jon sighed and tossed back the rest of his drink as his sister simply sat back and arched an eyebrow. She had him and they both knew it, but the living deadman wasn’t ready to concede defeat.

"Arya…"

"Jon. Now that we've established the fact that we know each others names, lets move on shall we? Now, were doing this right, Bran is going to look into it to make sure we do this correctly. Gendry has no real ties to the southron gods, beyond R'hollor and the North won't recognize anything beyond the Old gods. Stannis legitimizes him, get the loyal minor houses here to witness and Gendry and I marry. He takes the Stark name to prevent anyone from trying to set him against Shireen in the Stormlands, and Daenerys is safe from anyone trying to put a child of Robert on the Throne once Tommen officially abdicates."

Stannis jerked to attention.

"I am King by right."

Arya arched a brow at the man.

"King of what exactly? Robert took the throne through combat, Dany is taking it back the same way. You have a flaming sword, she has three dragons , a dothraki hoard, as well as the Unsullied. You have what a few thousand bannermen who are far from home, sick and weak from the cold and starvation?"

"Arya. Enough." Jon stared hard at his sister, who was completely ignoring him in favor of staring at the self proclaimed King.

"I won't legitimize him."

Arya and Rickon both tensed and stood, Gendry almost seemed to shrink further into the corner.

"I can do it," Shireen took a deep breath and turned to face the room. "Father claimed himself as king and left the Stormlands. I was Uncle Renly's heir. I am the last legitimate Baratheon, therefore I am the Lady of Storms End. I can, and I will, legitimize my cousin. Lord Reed, please fetch the maester."

Stannis stared open mouthed at his daughter while Arya smiled and Meera nodded.

"Shireen! You are my child!"

"You abandoned the Stormlands! You and Renly with your idiotic fighting over a crown neither of you could have held. Instead of letting the banners go home after Renly died you took them all North with no rest. There has been no harvest! Our homelands have been ravaged by raiders and bandits! Now. Gendry stand up.'

"I'd really rather not."

"Too bad, wasn't asking. Do you want to marry Arya?"

"Yes."

"Then stand up and stop being a stubborn ass."

Arya snickered and Gendry threw a glare at her before rising and staring down at his little cousin as the maester hurried in.

" Thank you for coming so quickly, please note what is happening. I Shireen of the House Baratheon, do hereby legitimize Gendry Waters to be of the House Baratheon. He is the issue of my late uncle, King Robert Baratheon First of his name. And as Lady of the Stormlands, and… as… as Head of House Baratheon I give permission for my cousin to marry as he chooses and to take the name of his choice."

Shireen looked around the room, and noting the beaming smile from Ser Davos and Arya's wicked smirk, she turned and launched herself at her cousin, wrapping her arms around his thick neck and pressing a kiss to his stunned forehead.

Arya let out a bark of laughter at Gendry's somewhat terrified expression as his arms slowly wrapped around his cousin.

"You have family now Gendry. Get used to it, I've been kept alone for far too long and I find I like having family."

Gendry nodded and very slowly put Shireen down before swiftly moving to stand behind Arya.

Jon huffed and Arya rolled her eyes before she gently gripped his arms to get him to look at her.

"Your still not getting married Arya."

"Jon. I am getting married to Gendry in the godswood. I am doing it after we retake Winterfell. And if you pull your head out of your ass you can be there to give me away to a man who has protected me since the day our father died. He has done everything in his power to keep me safe and alive to get me home. When we were starving he would go without to make sure I had something. That man refused to leave the last place I was seen and jumped on a boat at the mere hope that I was still alive. So yes Jon. I am marrying him, I was always going to marry him. Jon… he sees me. He has seen me at my best and my absolute worst. He sees me, and he has never waivered."

Jon looked into his little sisters eyes, for once so open and honest. He looked to Gendry, the mans blue eyes watching his movements around Arya.

"Still as stubborn as always sister."

"Pot meet kettle brother."

\--------

Jamie stood off at the edge of camp, silently watching the sun rise as Brienne approached him.

"Brienne it's time."

His armor was packed in the wagon, his sword belt removed , and his hand was tucked into a bag. Brienne looked at the length of rope in her hands.

"Are you sure? You think we're close enough to… where ever they are?"

Jamie looked up at the tree, to the body gently swinging in the wind.

"I'm going to say yes. Now bind my hand woman."

Edmure approached from where he was settling his wife and Jeyne in the wagon. His son was watching Raynald hitch up their horses.

"I'll do it Lady Brienne. Your going to have to get him on the horse."

Jamie nodded as Tully bound his forearms together, then with a boost from Brienne he was then tied to his saddle. They each mounted and Brienne began a slow walk towards the Inn. The sun had been up for about two hours when she knew they were getting close, and found Harwin waiting in the middle of the road.

"Well well we'll, you actually did it. You brought the Kingslayer to face the Lady's justice."

Brienne straightened her spine.

"That's not all. We were able to locate and free Lord Tully as well as the wife of the late King."

Harwin's gaze flicked at the others with her.

"And yet not the girls."

"No. Sansa refused to leave her…. Protector. And as for Arya, I know the girl in the North isn't her, but her dire wolf has been spotted. Along with two others near the coast."

Harwin rolled his eye.

"Come, we shall see what the lady thinks of this. And those wolves vanished weeks ago."

The party followed the man through the woods for a short time, coming to a clearing ringed with tents with a large bonfire in the center. If she squinted Brienne could just see the curl of smoke from the chimney if the Inn.

The men ringed the clearing, all facing a center most tent. The Blackfish sat near the bonfire cleaning his sword while a young boy watched attentively and mimicked his actions.

"Uncle!"

Edmure smiles softly as the older mans gaze flew to him and he rose.

"Edmure? How?"

"Brienne here and the Lannister freed us. I know about… my sister. What she's become. I need to know she won't attack Rhoslyn or Jeyne."

With a heavy sigh Brynden Tully looked his nephew in the eye. He was still far to thin but was recovered well.

"I can't promise you that boy. I wish I could, but she isn't the sister you knew. Harwin fetch her."

Harwin nodded and entered the center most tent.

Jeyne slipped from the wagon and removed the animal skin bag. She knelt near the fire holding it to her like a babe. An act of supplication from the woman who had fought and killed any man who had dared to try to claim her.

"Westerling."

The name was a hiss that sent shivers down the spines of everyone.

"My lady. My family betrayed you, betrayed my husband your son. They killed Robb's child in my womb. They butchered your men. My littlest brother sided with my mother, but Raynald remained loyal, he tried to free Grey Wind but failed. He was able to stay hidden, and slowly he was able to find him."

Lady Stoneheart stared down at the woman, Brynden Tully's hands wrapped around her upper arms.

"Explain."

"He found Robbs body. He was able to preserve his bones. And those of Grey Wind. He kept them safe until we could return them to you. He could not find his crown, my mother melted down the one he gifted me, it should have gone home with him. They killed his child in my womb, we could not leave him to rot in the mud. "

With this she offered up the bundle in her arms. Lady Stoneheart raised her hand to touch the bag then the girls hair.

"Take to Winterfell. Bury him beside his father."

Jeyne nodded and hugged the bundle close as tears fell. The dead Lady turned to face the others.

"Edmure."

"Hello Sister."

"Woman knight. Kingslayer. Where are my girls."

Jamie cleared his throat and stepped forward.

"Sansa is with Petyr Baelish. They fled the Vale after trying to kill Robyn Arryn. She refused to part company with him in the Riverlands. As for your younger one, I know she is know the one married to the Bolton. My sister sent a false girl. Your daughter hasn't been seen by any Lannister or loyalist since the day your husband was arrested. Rumor around the taverns talk of a pair of lost wolves who have treated with a Dragon."

"Freed Edmure. Why?"

"He needs to return to Riverrun, his people need him. Only I can get him in past the Freys. I made it clear to my Aunt I was taking control of House Lannister, they will let me in. Old Frey thinks I am of a mind with my father. He is wrong, my father destroyed any honor my sister and I didn't, its time to make it right. You have every right to take my head, but please let me atone for my sins against your family."

Lady Stoneheart reaches out and gently traced her fingers over the leaping trout on Edmure's chest plate.

"Go to Inn. Bind the Lannister in a tent. Bring the boy!"

A man drug a bound Podrick from the Blakfish's tent and cut his bonds. Brienne looked relieved as a tired Podrick made his way to her side.

"You did as asked. He is freed."

A raven circled above the group cawing as it slowly descended. For a moment it nuzzled at Jeyne's hair before flapping over to land on Edmure's shoulder. It seemed to go out of its way to avoid seeing the Lady as it held its leg out for Edmure. He looked into the creatures white eyes for a moment before removing the scrap of parchment tied there, and once removed the bird blinked and fell from his shoulder dead.

"What is it?"

Edmure read over the words three times before he handed the message to Brynden.

"Arya, Rickon, and Bran have joined Jon Stark at Eastwatch by the Sea. They are taking Winterfell back." A young girl sitting near the little boy on the log gasped in shock, her eyes starting to tear. Tom O' Sevens quietly moved over to the girl and leaned down to speak with her.

Lady Stoneheart gently lays her hand on the bag in Jeyne's lap.

"We take them home."

The next several days were a rush of activity. Jamie, Edmure and the Blackfish planned their way into Riverrun. The brotherhood would follow with plans to hang the Frey's. Mya was preparing to go with them North, Robyn would need looking after and she knew the boy the best. Weasel was begging to be allowed to follow with them, telling Mya.

"I need to know if it's her. I have to show her I'm okay, that I survived."

\----------

Walking the grounds of Harrenhal was a surreal experience, half of the massive courtyard was scorched. Remnants of burned stockades and pens. Sansa's skin itched as the walked. Something was happening, something important and she couldn’t put her finger on it. She could feel Peytr's eyes on her as she walked with the guard he had assigned her as she wandered the walkways. One of the old women had mentioned there was a wirewood tree in the godswood, as the night fell she finally found the tree with the scarred face.

"Please leave alone for a moment. I would like to pray."

The guard stared at her for a moment before stepping a few paces away and turning his back. Sansa tucked the skirt of her dress under her and flicked her loose red hair behind her shoulder. As she settled and folded her hands in her lap she closed her eyes and began to pray. She couldn't remember any of her father's prayers so she hoped the old gods wouldn't be too offended by the prayers to the new.

The bleeding red face was calming, a touch of familiarity amongst so much change. The longer she sat there, the sounds of the world bled away to complete silence. A slight breeze ruffled her hair as the tears began to fall. She thought about the last time she had knelt at a wierwood tree, long before they ever left Winterfell to come south. She had spent her prayers in her mothers Sept, Arya and the boys had gone to the Godswood.

_Father forgive me. I was stupid. I was so many things, I trusted blindly. I know better now. I can't make up for what I did, but I can restore our home. I can restore our family name. I can play the game now, Arya never could, she was too quick to anger and lash out. If he hasn't beaten her to death to keep her inline then this man is not married to my sister. Winterfell is mine by right and I will take it back. I will make it right. And if I can protect Arya all the better, but if she has been too broken I will give her the mercy you did not receive. Too much has been taken from me, I will take this back and it will never be taken from us again._

Sansa knelt for a few more moments, just before the tingling in her legs turned to full numbness. Slowly she made her way back to the solar they shared, walking to look out of the window in the room. Strewn across the desk were many letters and journals Peytr was getting sloppy in their time there. Usually he made sure to keep such a mess tidy around Sansa, claiming something about mess upsetting her mother and assuming Sansa would be the same due to her meticulous care of her appearance. She never disabused him of that notion. As she went about straightening the desk up, Sansa idly named off the seals of houses she recognized. Lannister, Frey, …. Bolton? Two strange seals also caught her attention, a ink black seal shaped with a dragon, and a seal of half black and half white affixed to several letters. Slowly she sifts through the letters and scrolls on the desk, noting names she didn’t recognize, and names she thought to be dead. She could hear Baelish's voice slowly approaching as his discussed some arrangement or other with his castellan.

As the door closed behind him, Baelish graced his ward with a smile which she returned demurely from her seat by the fire where she was reading an old history book about House Targaryen.

_________

Dany looked over the fertile green fields that surrounded Highgarden, dotted with fat cattle and some fluffy creature that bleated like a goat at the sight of her three Dragons overhead. She smiled thinly at the draping black banners over the entrance to the holding. Lord Willas Tyrell was waiting for her in the courtyard, his withered leg and cane preventing the man from making a full court bow to her. She smiled and extended her arm in greeting, which he gripped hers in return. An old woman to his side smirked.

"Highgarden is yours my Queen."

The old woman croaked a laugh. "She's queen of nothing yet boy. Now my dear, stand up and let me get a look at you."

Daenerys arched an eyebrow at the older woman.

"Lady Olenna Tyrell I take it? Your reputation proceeds you, Lord Varys and Lord Tyrion had much to say regarding your character when I was in Mereen. I look forward to seeing how much of it was actually true. Lord Tyrell have you received word from the North? I'm unsure how long it can take for ravens to travel the distance required."

" I have actually. If you are inquiring as to Lady Arya Starks arrival, then yes she has arrived safely. My brother Garlan is returning home soon at her request to begin moving the grain her brother Jon Stark had requested to help fortify the North. Seem's like the wolves are hungry for the flesh of flayed men."

Dany smirked at the mans turn of phrase.

"Yes, the pair I met were quiet bloodthirsty, but I am not surprised given what they have endured. Did you know the littlest boy survived on an island of cannibals? I look forward to meeting their direwolves, the way the both spoke of them it was almost as if the animals were a part of their very being."

Olenna's mouth thinned, while Willas smiled gently.

"Aye Garlan's letters have said as much about the other brother and his animal. I admit for all that we are roses we are not as striking as a large slavering wolf on the battle field."

"Ah but my lord, the most beautiful roses have the sharpest of thorns. And sometimes if the right tincture is applied those thorns can be just as deadly as any animal. Your lands are lovely, but I must ask if there is somewhere nearby I can send my dragons to hunt? They are quite hungry and have a bad habit of eating things they shouldn't and I fear they are quite sick of fish."

Lord Tyrell thought for a moment.

"How do they feel about mountain lions? I believe we have been having a bit of trouble from the creatures in the mountains to the North that border the Stormlands. They may also find an unlucky bandit or two."

Daenerys smiled broadly and nodded, with a quick phrase in Velarion Drogon and Viserion took flight and headed to the north. Rhaegal watched his brothers fly for a moment before turning to watch his mother and the other humans with her. He didn’t sense any ill intent from them, but there was a unpleasant feeling that buzzed around him like a fly. There was something bad coming, but he would protect his mother, and his brothers would return soon then he could go, there was a smell he wanted to chase. Not a smell of any animal he had ever smelled, but the girl with the grey eyes had a faint trace of it, he could smell it now and once his brothers returned to their mother he would chase it.

Olenna hobbled over to Daenerys and leaned heavily on her cane as she eyed the emerald dragon. He was a pretty thing, his stunning green scaled reminded her of the verdant green of her houses banners.

"Always keep one to guard the mother then?"

"Their choice, I do not bind them to me. Nor do I bind the Dothraki or the Unsullied to my side. They follow me and they stay because they chose to. I know the Dothraki cannot survive here, its against everything they are. As soon as I am Queen and I have settled my country I will send them home. They belong in the Grass Sea, not in the wet and cold of Stone houses. If some choose to stay I will gladly have them with me, but I will not force them. Now shall we get to buisness? I was under the impression that you both had reached out to the Martell's, what has been the result of that?"

"They have sent Lord Edric Dayne to treat with you my lady, along with two of the late Lord Oberyn's daughters."

"Bastard Daughters. I do hope that doesn't offend you, my dear."

Willas sent a glare at his grandmother, the old woman was having far too much fun baiting a woman with dragons, and Dothraki at her heels. Yet the Dragon Queen only smiled.

"I know the name. Lady Stark has told me of him, seems she met him briefly in the Riverlands many years ago. He was squired to Beric Dondarrion correct?"

Willas and Olenna shared a quick look. _Ah they weren't aware of that little tidbit._ The Lord of Highgarden ushered the ladies into the keep, where in a solar overlooking the gardens, the Sword of the Morning waited patiently. He bowed perfectly to the Targaryen Heiress, who clumsily curtsied in return.

"Well Lord Dayne, Lady Stark made mention of you being a decent swordsmen, Lord Barristan told me many stories about the skill of your Uncle Arthur Dayne. Neither one mentioned how handsome you are."

Edric's eyes widened slightly before a shy smile crossed his lips.

"Thank you my lady. The Ladies Sand should be joining us soon, they were feeling a bit… cooped up and needed to burn off some excess energy."

Daenerys's eyes raked from the top of the mans head to his boots and back again.

"I can well understand that."

________

Jon grunted as he blocked a blow from Tormund. The pair were among several in the training yard, Arya and Meera were off to the side both working with a prototype staff Arya had designed and convinced Gendry to make for her. Meera had already mentioned asking for a frog spear in a similar design. The women were holding nothing back, Arya wanting to learn as much as she could about the fighting style and capabilities of the woman who had dedicated herself to protecting Bran's life. Meera wanted to see what Arya was made of, she had seen the ferocity of the Stark males but Meera knew enough about females to know they would be far more ruthless when it came to protecting their families. So far the pair were pleased with what they were seeing and had drawn a crowd amongst the recuperating Stormlanders, the black brothers who slowly trickled in, the slow trickle of men from the minor houses from the North and the curious Free Folk. Finally Arya was able to take Meera to the ground with her staff pinning her down. The pair shook hands and parted, Meera off to check on Bran and Arya to stretch out tired muscles before seeking out the warmth of the forge. No one saw the Wilding man following her at a distance.

At least not until the man was quickly thrown out of the shadows and into the center of the training yard. The dark haired man stood and made to charge Arya who landed a kick to his midsection before he could get the chance. Gendry stepped out of the forge and leaned against the frame of the door, arms crossed over his chest and a small smirk on his face. Jon was enraged.

He quickly found himself standing beside the man. Tormund moved quickly to block the shorter man from striking the Armorsmith.

"You claim to love my sister. You want to marry her. And yet you do nothing to protect her? You are going to let this Wilding try to steal her and do nothing?"

"I don't need to do anything. Arya is more than capable of dealing with unwanted attention. If anything she will enjoy this test of her skills. She's already tired from her spar with Meera, so this will be a good work for her endurance. She's been taking care of herself and others since she was a child m'lord. If it's anyone you should be worried about sir, its your free folk friend."

A cry went up from the crowd and the men looked to see Arya had split the staff in two with a hidden blade pointed at the mans groin and the other half pressing against his throat.

Gendry laughed as she released the pressure of her weapons and walked over towards Gendry.

"You have to kill him Arya. If you leave him alive….."

The snarl of a direwolf stopped Jon's rebuke short. Nymeria had caught the man mid lunge for Arya, his dagger falling limply at his side. It was then Jon noticed Arya's eyes were white, as he started to move to her they quickly cleared and Nymeria relaxed and drug her treat from the training yard, her brothers bounding along behind her.

Arya sent Jon a wicked smirk before fisting her hand in Gendry's shirt and pulling him into a kiss.

"So that’s how True notherner's take a spouse then Tormund?"

"Aye She Wolf. If a man can take and keep a woman she's his. If she can kill him, she's free. Lots of fighting, lots of fucking up there. Only the strong can get past the fighting to get to the fucking."

Gendry laughed softly.

"Almost reminds me of that fight at Acorn Hall. You wanted to keep me, and we fought on the forge floor."

Tormund's eyes lit up. Jon's face paled for a moment before turning red with rage.

"Ah stole her already have ya?"

"Not exactly, we were children. And it was a draw, although if I remember right she started it."

Tormund let out a sharp laugh and clapped Gendry on the shoulder.

"I like you boy. And that don't matter, you fought to a draw and you kept each other. Counts as far as the Free Folk would care. But I know you Sothron twats have other ideas about that. Sides it ain't done till you fuck her."

Arya looked at Jon's near purple expression and laughed out loud, Satin had joined them and seemed to be holding back a snicker of his own. She pulled on Gendry's hand, back in the direction of the forge and away from her angry brother.

" It was not a draw stupid. Does that mean we don't have to have the ceremony then? I mean if were already married by Free Folk customs, 'cept for the last part. I mean we were just children, you were what five and ten? I was somewhere around two and ten?"

Satin lost the battle to contain his mirth.

"Oh I like her."

Davos cleared his throat from behind them.

"Your going to the tree young lady. Tormund please stop talking before Jon here stabs Gendry."

"Blacksmith! Hurt my sister and I will personally drag you over the wall and feed you to a dire bear."

"Am I supposed to be afraid of you?"

Gendry looked genuinely confused which did nothing but reduce both Tormund and Satin into another round of boisterous laughter. Arya was finally able to succeed in pulling him into the empty smithy and bolting the door behind them. A thump from the outside told her Nymeria had finished her meal and was resting against the door until Arya and Gendry were ready to leave. Gendry sent her a small smile before returning to the sword he was repairing, in their brief time at East watch he had declared all of the arms not made of Valerian steel as complete shite and had been working steadily to bring them up to scratch. He refused to allow bad steel cost Arya and her brothers their home. He may not have been the best warrior, but he was a damn fine Smith. This was his way of honoring Lord Stark, it was small, and probably silly, but it was his. Arya took up a seat on a bench against the wall and drew Needle out, ever so slowly she cleaned and honed her blade before working the polish in lovingly. Once she was done with Needle, her daggers followed, finally polished to a mirror shine as the first stars began to peak out in the sky. In silence Gendry felt fuller in heart then he ever had, Arya had once made mention of her mother saying love was built stone by stone. For him, it was a chain forged link by link. A chain they would never break.

As the pair heard the call for dinner, they stepped out of the forge together and looked up in confusion. It was dark to early, the wind holding an unfamiliar bite to it.

After a tense meal, with his brothers picking at him over his attitude towards Gendry, Satin had eventually convinced Jon to retire for the night and bathe. Satin had seen to very detail, ensuring Jon was as relaxed as possible. Ghost made his way in and curled up along side the bed opposite where Longclaw lay, as Jon finally drifted off to sleep. His dreams were strange, usually filled with the creatures he had seen beyond the wall, memories of Winterfell, but this dream was different. Nothing tangible, just the sound of a harp, a crushed crown of winter roses, delicate fingers tracing a red dragon, the sound of a man and a woman fighting, then what looked like the old sketches of dragon scales colored a brilliant green, the feeling of fire and warmth. A feeling of peace, a unknown melody lulling him ever deeper in to rest, and Jon Stark slept.

As the sun rose, and Jon Stark mounted his horse before looking to his siblings, their friends and their found family, he felt a peace he had never known. Bran simply smiled from a reconstruction of the saddle Tyrion had designed for him so many years ago, as the four direwolves bounded our of the gates and said "When the snow falls and the winter winds blow, the lone wolf dies. But the pack survives." Arya and Rickon both grinned and the four of them spurred their horses on.

_____

Lord Howland Reed tightened the leather covering on his satchel and looked to the man at his side. Sandor Clegane had appeared out of almost nowhere and fell into step along with the Lizard lion Lord. Neither spoke a word. They were still weeks away from Winterfell, the raven from Bran Stark told him exactly when to leave to get to Winterfell at exactly the right time and that a hound would find him along the way. Scribbled words from his children in familiar codes confirmed the identity of the sender and that the message was true. As they rode in silence, Howland's hand rested on the pack to his left.

_Soon old friend. Soon you will be home with your family, where you belong._


	13. One Day More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Starks arrive at Winterfell and have a little chat with the Boltons and has a very unpleasant reaction. Dany gets irriated with a stupid male. The Starks prepare to retake their home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moving along pretty quickly here, Martin didn't give exact travel distance and times in the books so I'm fudging things a teensy bit. There will be references coming to theories I have in the next few chapters, I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Also in the Books, Roose is still alive at this point, so I'm going with that.

Arya stood at the edge of the Wolfswood staring at the stone structure before her, Nymeria standing sentinel beside her. After days of travel, days of groups of Northerners coming out of the woods in small numbers, days of seeing massive wildlife heading south, they were finally so close. Winterfell loomed before her, its outer walls blackened and falling to ruin in parts, every solid stretch of wall bearing a sickly pink banner. She was so close. Finally after all this time she was almost home.

She refused to let herself get excited, the last time she had been 'almost home' her brother had lost his head. No it wouldn't be home until every last pink banner was burning in the courtyard and the wolves were howling from the Godswood. It wouldn't be home until Father and Robb's bones were found and buried in the crypt where they belonged.

Soft foot falls beside her, dragged grey eyes away to meet blue green. Rickon's eyes were changing, Bran said it was a green seer trait, and that the stronger his powers grew the greener his eyes would be come. Arya feared that for her little brother, it was easier for Bran he was older and less prone to lose himself, but Rickon was still wild, still a child. And at the same time he wasn't, he was vicious and ruthless in his training with the wildlings. Tormund had taken special interest in him, saying he would have made a good Free Folk warrior. When Mage Mormont had joined them, and brought little Lyanna along with her, Rickon had been in awe of the warrior girl. He was never too far from her on their treck. Rickon was talking about one day being betrothed to her should she be amenable to it. Jon was horrified, claiming that the pair were still only children and shouldn't be thinking about things like this, Arya had understood. Rickon wanted something solid, something that wouldn't change. If they survived this, then she would put the question of fostering the boy with the Mormonts if he wished.

Davos and Stannis had been concerned at the number of men and women quietly slipping into their ranks, but Jojen and Bran had simply smiled and nodded as each house quietly raised it's banner behind that of House Stark. The men who had come with Arya from Essos had quickly joined their kinsman with embraces and clouts to the head. Alys Karstark had appeared in the middle of the night, bruised and bloody with fifteen men and women of her house. A Thenn had taken a liking to her and the pair had agreed to marry once Winterfell was reclaimed, the start of overcoming generations of hatred on both parts.

The chill in the air brought her attention back to where she was standing, Rickon wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head against her ribs.

"Aya. I'm scared."

Her fingers carded gently through his curls.

"I know little wolf. I am too. But its our home, we need to take it back from the thieves who murdered our brother Robb."

Nymeria loosed a low growl, Shaggydog not far behind her. Their ears flattened back to their heads as they faced into the dark woods. As Arya gently drew her blade and guided Rickon behind her, a massive grey wolf stepped into the weak light of the morning. Shaggy sniffed the air and eased his stance, while Nymeria remained tense and growling lowly.

"Rickon you need to…"

"It's okay Aya. Shaggy knows him."

"Him?"

"He's a direwolf, like ours, sniffed Shaggy and the others out a while ago, I've seen him when Shaggy hunted. He's been watching us. He's from beyond the wall."

Arya's head snapped to look at the large animal now sitting still as stone staring at Nymeria.

"More Direwolves are coming south?"

"Not just the Direwolves girl."

Tormund slowly edged into the small clearing beside them.

"All the beasts have been making their way south for some time now. Ain't no game for eating for a long time. They're all fleeing. You chose your wolves didn’t ya?"

Arya nodded.

"Robb and Jon did. They decided which pup for which child. Robb gave Lady to Sansa and Nymeria to me, Jon gave Summer to Bran and Shaggy to Rickon."

"And who will you give that big boy to? Seems like he's chosen your little family."

"I think I'll let him choose. He's wild, but then again so are Shaggy and Nym. I think were all half wild these days."

Tormund looked at her with a critical eye.

"Good. Your crow brother has a streak of wild in him that we need, but the pair of you and your weapon maker, you three have it far wider than the crow. You've wilding in you."

Arya laughed while Rickon stood straighter and almost preened.

"I wanted to be one when I was a child. Seeing what the North has become, I think we could use a bit more of the way of the true North."

Arya eventually turned and lead them back to the small encampment they were using to make it seem like their force was a fraction of what it actually was. The three wolves stood at the edge of the forest watching them leave. Tomorrow they would ride for Winterfell and confront the ones who had stolen their home.

________________

Daenerys was furious. Where had this simpering little worm come from, and where did he get the gall to claim to be her nephew. Aegon Targaryen was murdered by the Mountain on orders from Tywin Lannister, Varys had confirmed it! Tommen had even confirmed hearing Tywin speak of it when Joffery was still alive.

The boy was on his way to the citadel to begin his training as a Maester, his family name would die with him. To Tyrion's horror Tommen had begged her to strip House Lannister of its land and titles. He had gladly handed over the little antlered crown, along with a wooden box carved with a dragon. Her mother's jewelry that had been forgotten in their flight, a thin black metal diadem with a red gem, some clothes and her books. Small things that would have been overlooked when Rhaella fled, but things that would have been destroyed in Twyin and Roberts mission to erase her family from the Red keep. There were even some things of Rhaegar's and Viserys as well, small learning tablets, a tiny carved dragon with three heads, a child's lyre. Tommen said he and Myrcella had discovered them as little children, shoved into a small forgotten room, and the pair had resolved to send them to her one day if they could, and if not to keep them safe from their father's fury.

Daenyers quite liked the boy, he was quiet and calm, and he doted upon the cats of Highgarden, Olenna mentioned seeing the boy do the same with the animals at the Red Keep. Missandei had spent some time with him in the days before he left, Tommen giving her as much information as he could on his mother. She was only to glad to allow him to go to the Citadel and begin his training, she would also request on his behalf that when his chain was fully forged that he be sent to the Wall. Tommen wanted House Lannister to be forgotten, and so it would be. Myrcella would be allowed to marry Trystane and live out her life in peace. She was sworn to never speak of her family beyond Tommen on pain of death.

Then this prancing show pony had dared to demand she bow to him. Irri and Missandei had nearly clawed the fools face from his skull. The blue dye still clung to his pale yellow locks, not the true white blond of a Targaryen, but then Aegon hadn't been a true Targaryan with his mother being Dornish. She was in the middle of negotiations with Willas Tyrell for how best to attack Kings Landing when the man swanned in acting as though he was their gift from the gods. He immediately demanded she hand over her Dothraki and her Unsullied to him and in return he would lock her up in a tower like a pampered pet. She had nearly drawn her own blade at his audacity. Varys even had the gall to look shamed when he admitted that he had known of the boy, had known of the claims that Elia had switched her babe with a commoner and had the babe smuggled out of the Red Keep. He told her that he had funded the boy's education, that he had worked with all levels of people before joining the Golden Company and quickly used his supposed Targaryen name to rise among its ranks, all while claiming the cover of 'Young Griff".

He made her blood boil, while there was enough to his story to be true, everything about him reminded her of those Khals who had sought to make her their concubine after Drogo's death. He reminded her of every man who sought to use her as a stepping stone to his own greatness. She hated the man, and to her absolute joy, so did her dragons. Rhaegal has nearly eaten the obnoxious man when he sauntered up and tried to touch the dragon while he was sleeping. Drogon wouldn't get anywhere near him, and Viserion hissed anytime the man got close to Daenerys. She wanted very badly to feed the idiot to them, but she couldn't because while he may be a lier, he was a smart one. Aegon had married Arienne Martell two moons before Daenyers had made landfall. The Sand Snakes who were with Lord Dayne, hated the man outright. He refused to acknowledge them, calling them bastards and beneath him. This was in her favor or course because Arienne Martell and Doran Martell were not well liked, where as Oberyn Martell, his daughters and young Trystane were well loved by the Dornish, and in the areas they weren't, House Dayne was. For now she would wait, if Aegon wanted to prove he was the child of Rhaegar then let him do so on the battlefield. He wants to be king? Let him earn it and let the people choose him.

Daenerys leaned back in her seat while Aegon droned on about.. Something she wasn't exactly paying attention to, and thought back to one of her conversations with Arya in Mereen.

_"Your people chose you didn't they? You freed the slaves and they chose you. Your Dothraki chose you when you walked from the flames, didn't they?"_

_"They did. And once the Throne is mine I will take them home. Dothraki tribes belong in the Great Grass Sea, not in this place filled with stone houses and men in armor. They're completely out of their element here, but they chose to follow me to take back what Khal Drogo promised me all those years ago. "_

_Ayra had nodded._

_"And your Unsullied? What will become of them? They cannot have children, most of them were so young when they were taken they don't know their homeland. What will you do with them."_

_"I will let them choose. If they choose to stay with me they will form the new ranks of the city watches, and guards. If they choose to go to the wall, or to disperse amongst the kingdom I will make sure they have what they need to live the lives they choose. They deserve that."_

_Arya had watched the other woman for a moment, her eyes cutting to Yara as she entered._

_"I have a great deal of respect for a leader chosen by their people, and who works to remain worthy of that choice."_

_Yara had taken up a seat beside the pair smirking nastily at the She Wolf._

_"Your brother was chosen as king wasn't he? They declared him King In the North, and it got him killed."_

_Arya's eyes flashed before she snarled out._

_"No greed and betrayal got Robb Stark murdered while under the protection of Guests Rights. Specifically the greed of House Bolton, and your fool brother's. Robb didn't choose to be a king, knowing him he had to be talked into it by our mother. But I know one thing, he would have ruled like our Father did. He was merciful and as fair as he could be. Robb's men chose him for a reason, and Twyin Lannister and Roose Bolton killed him for that same reason."_

_Dany had held up her hand cutting off the Kraken Queen._

_"Your brother didn't declare the North Independent, his people did when they chose him as their King. By all rights your father should have during the rebellion, from the stories he had every right to. Should the Northerner's choose you Arya, would you rule?"_

_The girl shook her head._

_"They would never choose me, two trueborn sons of Ned Stark still live, and my brother at the Wall. I'm a girl, they'd never choose me to rule them. I certainly wouldn't want to. The people of the North deserve someone who can give them stability and safety, someone who can ensure they have grain and food when the winter comes. I'm an assassin, a killer, I couldn't rule anything."_

Daenerys shook herself out of her musings to stare at the idiot before her.

"Tell me… nephew. Why do you want to be king so badly?"

"Because it's mine by right dear aunt. I know you commanded your little army here, but my Golden Company can crush them in a second. And really, making alliances with the Starks? They killed y…our family. They should be put down like the dogs they are."

Daenerys rose gracefully from her chair and took the hand of a truly livid Lord Edric Dayne.

"I see. I'm afraid I must retire for the evening. Do ensure you stay away from my "little army" the Dothraki don't take well to boastful men, and the Unsullied dislike anyone who threatens me, and the Starks. You see Lady Arya Stark earned their respect in Mereen, as well as my own. Oh and one other thing, stay away from my Dragons. You see Drogon and Viserion can tell the difference between a black dragon and a red one. Rhaegal is no different, but as he has not returned from his hunt yet, I can offer no protection from him."

Without another word she sailed from the room.

________

With the sun high in the grey sky, Jon, Arya, Rickon, and Stannis rode out into the middle of the clearing that seperated the wolfs wood from the gates of Winterfell. None of the Starks wanted to do this, if simply felt wrong, to stiff and opened to too many attacks. Twords them rode four men on thin black horses. Arya rested her hand on Needle's pommel, the thin blade sharpened to a razor's edge by Gendry. All of their weapons were sharpened and polished to mirror finishes, his small way of supporting those he considered family. His small way of protecting them was found in the small daggers hidden about their persons, and even fitted into the pommel of their saddles. He couldn't protect them, so he made certain they could protect themselves.

They came to a stop several feet from the other men. She regonized the Sigil of House Karstark and House Umber on either side of the two men wearing the Flayed Man.

"I am Roose Bolton, Warden of the North. This is my son Ramsay Sn...Bolton, Lord of Winterfell. And you are?"

Jon sat straighter as Arya fought an audible snarl.

"I am Jon Stark, these are my siblings, the trueborn children of Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell. Rickon Stark and Arya Stark. Winterfell belongs to them by rights."

Ramsay sat up straighter in his saddle.

"I am married to Arya Stark, Winterfell is mine. I know you have by bride, this isn't her and I want her back."

Arya glanced to Lord Karstark who was staring at her in shock.

"Hello Lord Karstark. You know who I am."

The man glanced quickly at Roose Bolton before swallowing.

"You look like Lyanna Stark. That proves nothing."

Jon leaned forward in his saddle.

"Lord Karstark, you came to Winterfell with your father whilst ours was still alive. You saw Arya as a child, to my understanding you were given her description by King Robb Stark so that your men could keep a look out for my sisters as you marched South. Tell me, the woman Ramsay married, what color were her eyes?"

"My love had the most beautiful brown eyes. Enough of this."

Jon ignored Ramsay and kept his gaze on Lord Karstark.

"And what color, my Lord were you told Arya's eyes were, what color eyes did the babe my father showed you that day in Winterfell have?"

Lord Karstark glared at the woman for a moment before deflating.

"Grey."

"Lord Umber, you also would have known this. You knew that girl wasn't Arya Stark didn't you."

The man never answered but looked at the pommel of his saddle when Arya swung her gaze to his.

"So you see Lord Bolton. Your son did not marry Arya of House Stark and therefore has no claim to our families holdings. Leave now."

Ramsay was tired of being ignored and goaded his horse to walk towards her, Nymeria's viscous snarl echoed from the dark woods.

"It doesn’t matter. I will wed this one then, and Winterfell shall be mine. My first wife is most likely dead by now and you my dear look like you will be ever so much more fun."

His hand reached for her hair as Arya felt his watery gaze travel over her. With barely a flinch Arya held a dagger to the inner thigh of the creature trying to touch her.

"Touch me again and you will be dead before you can make it back to the gates of my home. Lord Bolton, you have until dawn to leave our home or we will take it back by force."

Roose Bolton stared at the girl, then the boy, and finally the Bastard. Stannis he ignored completely having already beaten him in battle. He glanced behind them at the small force standing before the trees of the Wolfs wood.

"I should like to see you try child. Come Ramsay, we must make preparations for your wedding tomorrow."

______

Gendry paced before the forge of the small smithy in Wintertown. The bulk of their forces were on the far side of the town back in the woods. He had made use of the forge when the townsfolk had recognize the Starks for who they were. No one was coming or going to the keep so it was easy to move about as needed. The smallfolk were glad Ned Starks children had returned to claim their homes, the Boltons were no better than thieves, stealing everything and wasting it. Once Arya, Rickon and Jon's weapons were sharpened, Gendry had thrown himself into repairing things for the villagers, pots, horse bridles, shovels. All quick work, but it kept his hands busy, and the busier he was the less he worried about Arya.

He didn’t like this little 'meeting', put them too close to danger from Bolton arrows. All of the Starks had agreed it was idiotic, but Stannis insisted things be done the right way and Jon had expressly forbidden Arya from sneaking in and slitting their throats. No, Winterfell had to be retaken publicly, to send a clear message to Cersei Lannister that the Starks had returned and would have their vengeance. Gendry knew she wouldn't give Jon the same concession when it came to the Twins.

The clatter of hooves alerted him to Arya's return and he immediately stepped out where he could see her. Her eyes were narrowed and his back stiff as a board. Slowly he made his way to her, only gently placing a hand on her knee to snap her out of it. He moved very slowly, very deliberately. Arya blinked rapidly and looked down at him confused for a moment. Slowly she leaned down and slid from her horse to his arms. Gendry tucked her against his side and turned to walk her to the tent she shared with her brothers just beyond the little village.

Jon and Rickon shared a confused glance, but were pushed along behind the pair by Thoros.

"Go, she's going to need you two. Let her tell you, don’t try to get her to talk before she's ready."

When they entered the tent, they saw Arya sat on one of the cots and wrapped in a fur. Nymeria was resting her heavy head in her lap. Her hand rested on Gendry's open shirt, palm down on the skin above his heart, and she was slowly breathing in time with him, eyes tightly closed.

"What's happening? What's wrong with Aya?!"

Rickon's voice was tight with panic, this wasn’t like her. Ever since they'd been reunited on that dock Arya had been steady and now she looked desperately ill.

"She got a bit lost in the past, just needs to find her way back out."

Jon knelt next to Gendry.

"Did she tell you what it was?"

The blacksmith shook his head, never taking his eyes from Arya's face.

"She will when she's ready. Don’t try to force it out of her unless you fancy going into battle with only one eye."

"You’ve seen this before with her? Back when you were first travelling together?"

Gendry nodded with a sad look on his face.

"Aye. Never anywhere near this bad though. Mainly just nightmares, but every so often she would get a little lost in the past but we never really had time for it."

The three sat there for several moments before grey eyes slowly slid open, two tears slowly slid down her face. Gently, Gendry's large hands rose to cup her face and wipe the twin drops away and fought to keep his breathing even while she inhaled in rhythm with him. Slowly her eyes focused, the glassy distance slipped away, and she took a shaking breath before leaning forward to rest her forehead against his. The hand on his chest slipping away to reach out for her brother's. Her other hand reached for Rickon and pulled him tight against her side.

"Arya?"

"I'm alright Jon. I just need a minute."

"What was it Arya?"

"Ramsay. He…he was wearing one of Robb's cloaks."

Jon and Gendry shared an alarmed look.

"How…."

"I tore it. A few weeks before Robert Baratheon came to Winterfell. I was hiding from the Septa and I fell into the lake in the godswood from the tree. I was soaked to the skin and trying to sneak back in when Robb found me. He wrapped me in that cloak and snuck me up to my chambers, but I stepped on the corners and it tore right at the shoulder, not much just enough for Mother to notice it. I spent two weeks stitching it up, the best stiches I'd ever done but the thread was what I could nick, it wasn't the right color but close enough. Robb never said a word, but he wore that cloak for a ten days straight."

Jon grimaced.

"I remember that. Thing stank to the sky and back and he refused to let them launder it. He washed it by hand and had the biggest smile as he did it."

Rickon snarled from beside them, to little to remember anything about it, but absolutely livid.

"That monster murdered our brother and has the balls to wear his clothes. They have no remorse for what they done."

Arya's arm tightened around Rickon's shoulders, her hand in Jon's flexed hard, and her grey eyes focused on Gendry's.

"Tomorrow they pay. They pay for each and every one of Robb's men they betrayed, they pay for every arrow Robb took, they pay for every wound Grey Wind suffered. Tomorrow we take back our home, and House Bolton ceases to exist. There will be no mercy. Any who stands with that house, dies. No prisoners, no surrenders, they all die. The smallfolk Bran will handle, He and Jojen will filter out those who were trapped and those who were loyal to those monsters. Jon, you have someone at the Dreadfort you said? Send whatever word you need to with one of Brans ravens. Leave the walls standing, but burn everything else to the ground."

Jon didn't know how to process this, for all that Arya had been an angry child when provoked, but this…. Vicious spirit was a shock to him. He spared a quick glance at Rickon, and was equally shocked by the truly feral snarl on the boys face, and the grim fury burning in Gendry's eyes. Silent as the man was, Jon could read his face as though he were screaming his thoughts. The Bolton's had hurt Arya, had taken her hope and caused her pain, and now he would gleefully help her crush their skulls.

"Arya we can’t just kill everyone."

Arya's eyes snapped to his, so dark silver they looked black at the edges.

"They did it to Robbs men, Jon. They slaughtered them all, any that surrendered they killed. They left them there in the courtyard to rot. They took Robb's head and tied Grey Winds to the body."

"Arya those are just stories."

"No Jon. I saw it. I was there."

Gendry gasped and jerked back while Jon's hand went completely slack, Rickon burrowed closer into his sisters side, his blue eyes narrowed.

"The Hound and I made it there that night. Right as things started, I could hear the screaming from inside. I watched someone try to free Grey Wind, I tried to get there to help but I couldn't make it. Frey's noticed me and were heading right for me, the Hound cracked me in the head again and knocked me out. I came to slung over his saddle, they were parading Robb's body around. 'King in the North! Long Live the King in the North!' He was still warm Jon, his blood was still dripping. I know they threw mothers body into the river naked, her throat cut from ear to ear."

Jon shoved to his feet and stumbled back in horror.

"Enough Arya! Enough."

Gendry never took his eyes off of her, remembering how they had found Lady Stoneheart in the river. The large she wolf he knew now, had been lying near by, as if waiting for them.

"They will pay Arya. We will make them pay for every life they took in their greed. And then we will destroy the Frey's, all that’s left of them are the ones we couldn't get close to. You can."

Jon snarled at Gendry.

"Don't you fucking dare volunteer her for a suicide mission."

Arya's smile was vicious.

"I've been planning how Walder Frey will die since that night Jon. No one is giving me permission to do a damn thing. Walder Frey will die by my hand. His sons will die, anyone who took part in or benefitted from their betrayal will die. It's not just Northern vengeance Jon. They broke Guest Rights, one of our most sacred and holy laws. For that alone the house will be destroyed."

"Enough Arya, Jon. There is time for that later. You need to focus on tomorrow." Tormund and Satin had silently carried Bran into the little tent. "Gendry has personally sharpened your blades, your axes, his hammer is spiked and ready. Your allies are ready, Arya your wolves are hunting, the Dothraki and the Free Folk are getting along for once, and the Unsullied are resting. You all should be as well."

Arya rose and slowly walked over to Bran, his clear blue green eyes looked calm.

"Bran."

He held up his hands to take hers.

"I know Arya. I've seen that night, the Three Eyed Crow showed me. I saw what you saw that night, I watched Clegane save you. You have the skills you need for what is coming. I will be safe here with Jojen, Meera will be going with you. House Reed will stand with House Stark."

Arya nodded and pressed a short kiss to her brother's forehead before turning to the others.

"Get some sleep. At Sunrise we take back our home."

Gendry stood to leave the tent, but Arya caught his hand and dragged him back in and over towards her bedding. Jon opened his mouth to say something, only for Satin to nonchalantly deliver a stunning elbow to his ribs before pushing the other man in the direction of his own furs. Rickon and Bran ended up curled together on Rickon's pallet of furs on the floor with Meera and Jojen close at hand. They all soon settled into a light sleep.

Several hours later, Thoros and Davos both made their way to the Starks tent, only to see Tormund holding the tent flap open with a smirk on his face. There in the middle of the tent, all four surviving Starks, the Reed children, Gendry and Satin, were all curled into a large pile of furs in the middle of the tent. Bran and Meera were curled around each other, Rickon's head was snuggled into Jojen's chest, Jon and Satin slept head to head curled around both pairs, while Gendry lay spooned up against Arya's back, with her head resting on his arm. Laying around them were the five wolves, with the new large male tucking his head between Gendry's head and Satin's legs.

Thoros heaved a quiet sigh, only speaking at Davos' curious look.

"I forget sometimes how young they all are. Arya was barely older than the boy when she and Gendry nearly stumbled into our little camp. Jon's barely what twenty? Younger than we were when we first saw combat, far too young for this."

"Aye, They've had a hard road of it. And it isn't over yet. Gods willing they'll get to grow up a bit more, remember what it means to be at peace."

Davos gently reached down and shook Satin awake, the man was the least violent upon waking. Satin slowly shifted, the wolves around them nudging the Starks and their pack away. The men going off to bathe and prepare their armor. Arya and Meera joined the Mormont women and the women warriors amongst the free folk to prepare. Their hair braided tightly up and out of their faces, a black ashy paint smeard across their eyes. The effect not only cut down on glares, but it also made the women look more fierce. The Dothraki saddled their horses and the Unsullied strapped into their armor. The smaller wolves dragged corpses out of the woods and left them laying in the middle of the clearing, spies that had been send in the night only to be hunted down.

Arya and Meera returned to their tent only to be met with Gendry holding two chain mail shirts out to them expectantly. He knew the pair would never consent to wearing the more traditional armor, neither would Rickon, but at least he could convince the younger boy to wear the gorget to protect his neck. The women smirked and waited for Gendry to leave before slipping the fine chain on under their thick plated leather doublets. They needed to be able to move quickly and regular plate would only weigh them down.

As the left the tent, the pair of women patting down their wrists and hips counting the small blades hidden at the various points, Gendry stood waiting holding Needle and Meera's frogspear. Each weapon carefully cleaned and sharpened to a razors edge. Arya smiled softly as the took the thin sword from his hand and slid it into the sheath at her side before climbing atop her horse. Bran and Jojen waved to them from the tent where they would remain until the battle was over, Alysane Mormont standing behind the pair looking as fierce as the other women. Her orders were simple, if they failed, get Bran and Jojen to the Neck. Her mother, recently returned from her own trek in search of Rickon, stood close at hand with the other Lords who had quietly pledged their loyalty to the Starks, she had also been with Davos and Stannis when the lower ranking members of the various houses slipped in to pledge for their house as well. There were at least one representative of each house before them now, intermixed with Free Folk and Unsullied. The Dothraki were to the south with the wolves scattered to the North.

Jon and Rickon rode up to her, Rickon's face streaked similarly in black and his hair braided up as Arya's where as Jon was clean and clean shaven his black curls pulled into a knot at the back of his head. Rode out to the front of the lines of the small contingent of men and women, a thousand eyes watching them.

"One of us needs to say something."

Jon snorted and glared at his sister.

"Sounds like your volunteering Arya. I can't do it, legitimized or not I'm a bastard. Rickon cant do it, he's only ten. Looks like its all on you."

Arya narrowed her eyes at her brother.

"Fine."

She spurred her horse out to the front of their lines, the Bolton's were forming up before the keep not far away from them. Arya nodded to the woods and the sound of bow strings stretching drifted faintly across the clearing.

" I am Arya Stark. I am the daughter of Eddard Stark. The sister of Robb Stark. You are Northerners, from below the wall and above it, but you are Northerner's all the same."

Arya looked around at the fluttering banners above their heads, eyes catching on the grey wolf running on the almost white field.

"To our Stormlands friends, we have a saying in the North. The North Remembers. The North Remembers that you answered the call of the Nights Watch for Aid. The North Remembers that you answered the Starks call for help. The North Remembers the murder of Eddard Stark on false charges at Kings Landing. The North Remembers the murder and butchery of my brother Robb Stark at the Red Wedding. The North Remembers every man who was slaughtered for the greed of those cowards who hide behind the walls of Winterfell. The North Remembers how the Bolton's have stripped her people of food and shelter as winter approaches. The North Remembers their lies before the sacred Wierwood tree. The North Remembers, and now Winter has come for House Bolton and they will never see another spring. They will never see another DAWN!"

The quiet thwap of an arrow was nearly drowned out by the cheers of the army before her.


	14. On my own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle for Winterfell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was harder for me to get out than it should have been, but with all the crazy in the world right now I'm giving myself a pass on this one. It's not great but it works for me.

The thwap of the arrow may have been missed, but the crack as it was struck by a second was deafening. The broken arrow fell to the ground to the side of Rickon's horse, the boy never flinched. Arya nodded stiffly towards the tree line as she caught sight of Anguy nocking another arrow, his face calm and steady.

Arya raised her hand, stopping Jon from thundering across the clearing alone.

"Stop. You ride out there alone you die. Let our archers do what they do best, then we ride through. The closer we get to the walls before we lose our horses, the less distance we have to make on foot. You’re a commander, act like one."

"Why are you the calm one?"

Arya shrugged as she slid Needle from its sheath.

"Assassin."

Jon blinked at her for a moment before raising his hand to signal the archers.

"We still need to talk about that. Not now… but eventually."

Arya hummed as Jon dropped his hand and Gendry nudged his horse up beside hers.

"You two done now?"

She sent him a smirk as the line of horses moved up slowly, giving the illusion that they were preparing to charge. It worked, the Bolton line began to shift and surge towards them.

"Hold!"

The Bolton forces were galloping at them, and Jon's arm quickly rose and dropped again, the arrows finding their targets just an arms reach from Arya's mount. A cry came up from the wildings and the mounted Stark men and women suddenly spurred their horses, running through as many of the foot soldiers as possible. Soon enough Arya jumped from her horse and slapped is flank to get it clear of the battle. Needle flashed and bit into the men before her, she could hear Jon and Gendry's grunts as their weapons took the weighty brunt of longsword hits, but with her size and the types of weapons she carried Arya had to rely on her speed to keep her safe. She caught a glimpse of Meera spearing a Karstark man through the eye with her frogspear, and Rickon spinning his twin axes mowing down any who got to close. Suddenly the gates opened and more men poured out, the crush of bodies catching her off guard for a moment, she could see riders sneaking from behind the keep, Bolton men. They quickly encircled those fighting on foot and tried to tighten the fighting around them.

The crush of bodies forced their fighters into a tight circle as the Boltons attempted to form up a shield wall to surround them. The shrieks of the Dothraki screamers echoed from the forest, along with the earth shuddering steps of Wun Wun, broke their resolve as they were cut down from behind. The mounted line broke instantly, no match for the superior horsemanship. Added to which the giants club knocked several men away. The Unsullied and Wildings worked well forcing a break in the Bolton lines, clawing their way through the mud to reach the gates, several already getting their hooks and ropes ready to climb if needed.

Arya lost her footing in the mud and slipped to her knees, a man saw her fall and turned to charge her, his blade raised for the kill. The man only took three steps before a large spiked hammer caved in his chest, Arya could only blink as the blood sprayed across her face. A large hand jerked her upright by the collar of her jerkin.

"Bad place for a rest M'lady."

"Shut up Stupid."

The two made quick work of the men before them, Gendry blocked their sword strikes as Arya slid her sharp blades through the breaks in their badly made armor. Arya stabbed the thigh of a man trying to take Gendry's head off, while Gendry knocked the head off of a man trying to trip her up. Quickly they found themselves at the gates of Winterfell, she heard the brace being dropped in place from behind, but she could see the wear on the door. It hadn't been well maintained, she glanced at Gendry as he quickly assessed each brace and hinge, sneering at the poor excuse for steel, before turning to bellow behind him.

"WUN WUN! HIT THE METAL HINGES!"

The giant nodded and moved forward to attack the door as a hail of arrows began to shower down. A sharp howl caught her attention and the arrows slowed to a stop, Arya knew that Anguy had pulled their archers forward to take down the archers trying to shoot down on them from above. Howls echoed from the woods as the wolves joined the fighting, Nymeria and Shaggy leading the charge as they tore their way through the men who screamed in fear.

The door to the keep gave and the Northern Army poured in. In the melee Arya caught sight of Ramsay, he saw her and fled, Arya charging after him not waiting for one of the others to follow. He bolted into one of the side tunnels of the keep, and Arya smirked. She could hear the sound of snarls behind a wall as he ran past the old kennels. His hounds, Theon had warned her about them, especially about how he would starve them before a battle. She had only hoped that Jon and Rickon had taken that to heart when she relayed the information. If not, Nymeria and the pack would see to them.

_He really thinks he can use the secrets of my home against me._

She slowed her pace and calmed her breathing. She needed to focus. As she slowly made her way around a curve in the tunnel, Ramsay leapt from the shadows trying to bring his dagger down on her shoulder. Arya spun away, flicking Needle towards his side and missing. They wove in and out of the shadows, trying to get in what hits they could. Finally Arya realized Ramsay had lead her to a deserted area of the keep, the sounds of the battle raging on faint but present. She glanced about quickly to orient herself, but she could tell by the chill exactly where they were.

Ramsay had lead her straight to the opening of the crypt.

They circled one another for a few moments, assessing each other. Arya could tell he wasn't tiring, the ill fitting armor far to light for what any of the others were wearing, it was far to small for the mans large frame. It wasn't the armor she'd been expecting, Theon had described armor designed to look like one of his victims. This was obviously whatever the man could grab from the armory.

"Tell me woman, how much did the crypts frighten you as a child? My Reek told me the most wonderful stories of you being frightened down there when he would jump out at you. You keep staring at my chest, see something you like?"

_Lie_. Arya said nothing in response.

"You are a pretty little thing aren’t you? I am going to enjoy this, shall I flay you first? Have you prepared for me while your bastard brother watches? Perhaps I'll serve you parts of that little brat roasted over the fire. That big brute that was following you will make a fine meal for my hounds, they are ever so hungry."

Arya allowed her lips to quirk. Small wisps of cold air blew away the hair that had come loose from her braids. She could see each little wisp make the bastard shiver and glance about seeking the source as the air around them was strangely still.

" I think you'll find your hounds made a fine meal for my wolves."

She was able to feint and get a quick slash to his side, before lurching to grab the door of the crypt and force it open just enough for her to slip in.

The silence was deafening, no sounds of the battle reached this place. She could hear Ramsay lumbering down the stairs muttering something about making her hide into a lovely cloak. Whispers reached out to her, calling her deeper into the crypts. She wove her way farther and farther in, farther away from the light of the sun outside.

It's perfectly dark in the crypts, Ramsay waved his sword around squinting to try to see in the darkness, but the inky blackness gave nothing away. He strained his ears but could hear nothing but a soft sound of wind, and the fait sounds of the battle raging in the courtyards. Each step he took his ill fitting armor clanked and creaked, he could hear nothing of her movements.

"You don't belong here." A crack across the exposed backs of his knees.

"Leave" A brush across the back of his heels he barely felt, followed by a sudden weakness and sharp pain.

"False lord." A kick to his lower back drove Ramsay to his knees.

"You are no Stark, your pitiful family will never be as powerful, as beloved and as feared as the Starks." A small knife slid under his chest plate and slid between his ribs, not enough to kill but enough to weaken. Ramsay slashed out with his sword, the metal glinting off of the stone statues. Angry growls rumbled from somewhere, somewhere below them. The gentle breeze that had whispered around him, was now a rush of wind, the cold brazier beside him lit, bathing a statue of a woman and a man beside her in furious shadows.

"You desecrate this place with your presence!"

Ramsay struggled to stand.

"Winterfell is ….."

A crack to the base of his skull knocked him to the stone floor.

"Winterfell is Mine, Ramsay Bolton."  


As she drug the limp body to the stairs, Nymeria was silently waiting for her and along side Sandor Clegane.

"Damn mutt tracked me down in the battle and near drug me here."

Arya smiled softly at her former… friend? Teacher?

"I need to ask a favor of you Hound."

"Hound died on that road whelp. What do you need?"

"Carry a body for me?"

Sandor looked at her hard before nodding and slung the limp man over his shoulder.

Arya smiled as a gently breeze brushed her hair out of her eyes again, this time the lock stayed in place.

_________________

Rickon turned around searching the melee for his siblings, but all he could see were unfamiliar men. The only way to know which ones were on his side and which weren't was by which ones tried to lop his head off. He loved this, he could feel his blood pumping and his axes felt like extensions of his arms. He recited all of Arya and Tormund's guidance in his head. He moved constantly, not stopping to do much but clean off the handles of his axes as needed. His goal was to make it to the Great Hall, Jon and Arya had made that very clear. He needed to get to the Great Hall of Winterfell.

Rickon dodged a cluster of men, leaping up on to a broken wagon to try to get a look around, get oriented in the vaugely familiar courtyard. Kollion's teachings reminding him of how to work his way around a wounded animal, each man going against them was crazed as far as he cared. To him they were animals, creatures who had run his family to ground and tried to den where they didn’t belong. His small face curled into a snarl, he could feel Shaggy's fury.

_Invaders denning in our home. They needed to be run out and put down like the diseased creatures they were._

A man charged him from a building he could just barely remember, he knew it was something to do with the wolves. His axes swung easily, their sharp blade slicing the mans arm off at one elbow and his opposing leg off at the knee. A third slice to the man and Rickon moved on. He could hear snarling through the wooden wall, Shaggydogs fear bolting through him. He knew this place now, the kennels. A man wearing a pink shirt looked at him from the door for a moment before running into the building. Rickon didn't wait to run, he knew what was coming. The Bolton hounds, they had caught the scent of blood and Arya had warned them that Ramsay was in the habit of starving his hounds.

Rickon made his way across the courtyard, using his small stance to his advantage by taking axes to the backs, waists and knees of men wearing the Bolton sigil. He was almost to the steps when he heard the snarls, and half of the men froze in fear. But not their half. The skinny hounds raced from the delapidated kennel into the fray snapping and biting at whatever they could get their jaws around. Rickon reached out to Shaggydog and Nymeria, the pair swinging green and yellow eyes twoards him from where they were pulling the arms off of a man. Nymeria bolted for another part of the castle, catching the attention of a scarred man as she ran.

_Don't let them hurt our pack._

The wildlings began roaring as Shaggydog, Summer, the Grey, and Ghost leapt over groups of men to tear into the small hounds. They were no match, with as weak and hungry as they were. It wasn't a battle, it was a mercy. The poor creatures had been tortured to madness and starved beyond it. Rickon had seen it man times on Skagos, a man in the village would raise a pup and beat it. Eventually the creature would turn on its masters. Rickon pushed his mind from Shaggydogs into one of the hounds, trying to calm them, they were simply animals, but he could feel the pain, their fear and their hunger.

_Put them down my pack, end their suffering._ The growls shifted into mournful howls for just a moment.

A large bearded man snuck up behind him and got his arm around the young boys throat, only to get an arrow to the eye. Rickon turned to wave his thanks to Anguy, only it hadn't been him who had fired the arrow. It was Theon. And with him dozens of Ironborn archers atop the battlements firing at the Bolton men, the Karstark men, and the Umbers. Men wearing a green mermaid came pouring into the courtyard from one of the other gates, catching them all by surprise. Manderly men.

Tormund and Maege Mormont found their way to him and the three broke the bar across the door.

The hall was empty, save for a single chair and the long table before it. The wolves had been hacked away, but it was the seat of the Lord of Winterfell. As he walked across the stone floor the cold retreated, finally he was home.

______________

It hadn't taken Jon long to find Roose Bolton, he hadn't even had to search. Roose found him.

"Bastard! Winterfell belongs to the Boltons!"

Jon smirked and dodged the sword blow, spinning around to deflect another blow.

"Winterfell has belonged to the Starks for thousands of years. My ancestor's built Winterfell, and you think you greedy halfwit skin flayers can take it from us? You think you somehow deserve this place? No. The Old Gods will have their due Lord Bolton. And I shall arrange the meeting!"

Jon parried and dodged slipping back into the old ways he would spar with Robb. The Boltons method of fighting was a pale imitation of the Young Wolf, a pale imitation just like everything about Roose Bolton. He was nothing but a pale imitation of the Starks. And unlike Robb, Roose was becoming sloppy the more the fight went on. He was old, he had gotten fat on the spoils of his betrayal.

_His left boot._

Jon shook his head. _Watch his left boot, that’s where the knife is_. Jon's eyes cut down as he parried another weakening blow, and there it was a bronze knife tucked into Roose's boot. It held a crimson stain and he knew. Jon knew, that smug bastard had left Robb's blood on the knife like some sort of demented trophy.

Roose caught sight of Jon's eyes shifting to his feet, and the snarl that bloomed there. His smile was viscious as he shifted his blade to one hand, it wasn't the best and he was out of balance but if he could goad the bastard into making a mistake this would be over quickly. The red stained blade slipped easily from its hidden sheath.

"See this bastard? Our blades are sharp, your mongrel of a brother found that out. And by the time this day is done this blade with be coated in the blood of you and the mutt. I'll make sure that my son uses this blade to unburden your sweet sister as well. It’s only fair, family should be together afterall."

Jon swallowed the rage building with in him, forcing himself to be calm, knowing that Bolton was just waiting for Jon to make a mistake. Jon wouldn’t give him the chance, he lunged at Roose and sent a kick to the outside of the mans knee as he moved away, the blow causing him to lose his footing on the muddy ground.

Out of the corner of his eye Jon caught sight of Lords Kartstark and Umber crossing swords with Stannis and Davos. They were simply keeping the men busy, letting them exhaust themselves. It had been a silent agreement to try to keep the lords alive, if possible. Admittedly none of them would be to put out if they died, but as always Bran had some plan.

The snarling of hounds reached him over the din of the battle, and Roose smirked at him.

"Seems my son's pets have joined the battle. They are loyal creatures I will give him that."

Jon said nothing watching for his opening, and when Roose shifted his torso just slightly enough exposing his side as the howls of the wolves drifted over to them, Jon capitalized on it with a burst of speed in the opposite direction. He was able to get behind Roose and deliver a cracking blow to the back of the mans head.

He was alive for now. Jon slowly turned his attention to the shocked lords before him, Davos and Stannis solemnly guarding his back. Davos appeared unharmed but Stannis had a large gash to his torso. As Jon slowly stalked forward Karstark and Umber both dropped their swords.

______________

When he got his hands on her he was going to tie her to the support beam of the nearest forge he could find. Gendry's hammer sung as it whipped through the air, crushing the chest or skull of anything that got in his way.

He'd lost Arya.

They had gotten separated at some point and he had no idea where she was, hell he had no idea where he was. So he settled for smashing anyone he didn’t recognize, Davos' forced lessons in houses paying off somewhat, at least he was avoiding the houses he recognized. As his hammer sunk into the chest of another man wearing the disgusting sigil of the flayed man, the blood and muck splashing up to coat his face. Watching the wolves snap the hounds necks had been hard to watch, that wasn't a battle. It was a mercy, and Gendry feared it was one that would have to be repeated once they reached the main part of the keep, if Ramsay's prized hounds were so skinny, same as the horses, what kind of condition were the small folk in?

Was this really what his sire had loved so much he'd used Lyanna Stark as an excuse? Gendry let his mind wander as he worked his way through the crush of men before him. He couldn’t fathom it, the woman he loved and instead of tearing the country apart to find her, his sire had raised an army. It didn’t make sense, to Gendry nothing mattered more than Arya. He wanted nothing to do with glorious battle, he just wanted her safe, and alive. He snarled as his hammer sunk into another chest. An excuse. Robert Baratheon had used Lyanna as an excuse to go to war over his wounded pride.

"Fucking highborns."

He thanked the gods that the Starks weren't like that, they might have been at one point, but the gods had shown them what it meant to have to fight for survival. He could see the changes in Arya compared to the snappy child she had been. Dodging a man swinging a broken sword, Gendry sent his hammer into the mans knees as a frog spear arched over his shoulder to lodge in the mans eyes. Meera appeared at his side, wrenching her spear free.

"Getting distracted there Gendry."

A glut of men in green mermaid heraldry ran in from the south, atop the walls of the keep Ironborn were shooting at what he hoped were the enemy. Gendry's eyes found Theon right as he watched the man knock an arrow and fire into the crowd. Right at a man trying to take Rickon's head. Theon nodded at Gendry and made his way down to the courtyard. They could see the massive doors of the keep being pushed open, and could hear the sounds of steel hitting the ground.

Meera looked over at Gendry.

"You can't kill him Gendry. I know you want to for what his actions put Arya through, I want to for the same reason. He personally put Rickon and Bran in danger. He chased us beyond the wall. He needs to face the justice of the North. He knew what he was doing when he came here."

Gendry looked around that the Ironborn training arrows on the now silent Karstark, Umber and Bolton men.

"And them?"

"They were part of the raiding party that took Winterfell. Asha sent the north to face justice. Come, there's something we need to do."

Meera led Gendry away across the courtyard, past the damaged kennels, and to a large locked gate. A heavy chain and a bolt held the massive doors closed. Gendry had no idea what it was, but it was obviously important based on the stricken expression on the warrior woman's face.

"By the old gods, what have those monsters done, they left this place chained and abandoned. Those heathens."

Slowly the direwolves and their smaller pack members joined them, all of them slowly cleaning the blood from their muzzles. Gendry was transfixed by the faint carvings on the door, weathered by time but still just barely there.

"Godswood you said. This is where their gods live?"

The clip of horses hooves caught their attention, the pair turning to see a man sitting astride a horse with Bran settled before him and Jojen from behind. Summer rose to stand beside the horse, allowing Bran to slip down to rest on the animal's back. Jon, Stannis, Davos jogged up as Tormund led Rickon out of the great hall to join them. Tormund loosed a stream of colorful wilding curses as he took in the chains barring the way to the holy place. Nymeria guided an exhausted and bloody Arya to them, with Sandor Clegane dragging the limp body of Ramsay Bolton behind him. Wilding men and men of the Nights watch dragged the now bound lords of House Bolton, Karstark and Umber to the gates.

Bran took a deep breath, tears slowly starting to drip from his blue green eyes.

"Gendry. Please. Break the chain."

Gendry looked at Arya's tired eyes, not surprised to see the sheen of tears there as well. He nodded firmly and took his bloody hammer in his hands, and brought it down on the bolt with all of his strength. The bolt shattered and the chain fell. Two of the direwolves took the chain links in their mouths and with Gendry, Meera, and Tormund pulling the chain slid free. Jon and Arya stepped forward and the pair of them pushed the two heavy doors open releasing a gust of wind that sounded to Gendry an awful lot like a sigh.


	15. Little People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Northern Justice, a check in on Kings Landing, and Daenery's isn't as alone in the world as she thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is like two months late. Yeah sorry about that. This Corona Virus is no joke, I'm techinically over it but I get winded if I stand for more than five minutes or walking around my kitchen to cook. Between that and everything else this has just kinda sat. But it's done and I'm happy with it. Lots of moving bits going into place for whats to come.
> 
> Enjoy.

Marina shook as she entered the godswood along with what remained of the household staff, or at least what was left of them. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been within the walls of the sacred ground, somewhere between the Young Wolf's departure south and the Kraken's betrayal.

Marina had come to Winterfell as a young girl to work in the kitchens, it was a warm place back then, the Stark children running about, Cook pretending not to notice when the little boys and girl nicked apples or tarts. Setting something a bit extra aside for the bastard son when Lady Stark was particularly harsh to him. There were many time's she had seen Lord Eddard down talking with the senior maids and grooms about how things were going around the keep. Lord Stark had made it very clear that all of those within the walls of Winterfell were welcome to pray to the old gods with in the godswood, extending that privilege to include the Lady's sept as more and more people began to worship the seven. The smallfolk all agreed to make sure never to disturb the family at their prayers but Marina could remember a great many of them quietly coming and going from the holy places in between their duties.

Marina missed those days, before the King came, before the little boy's fall, before the girls left, before the Iron Born came. She had been able to escape the ravaging of the household, the turncloak had tried to spare as many of the maids as he could, only having the most well known killed. Then He came.

Everyone knew what the Bolton's had done. They knew the Bolton's were responsible for the murder of Young Robb. Such a kind boy, only somewhere around six and ten she thought. Such a shame what happened to him, to his mother. Marina had been one of the lucky ones and managed to avoid the Bolton for a few weeks until the lady arrived, Lady Stark.

Every single member of the household knew who she was.

Jeyne Poole.

How dare she try to take the place of the little Lady after how that bitch had tormented that little girl every day . They treated the girl harshly, at least until the beatings began. They could all see what the Turncloak had become, what Jeyne was becoming. No one deserved that, no one should have to endure what they did.

_That wasn't Northern justice, it was madness and cruelty._

The bastard had taken sick joy in those first few weeks of knocking the head off of every wolf statue he could find, one of the stable boys had managed to save most of them and carry them to the stone cutter in the village.

The carvings and Stark histories however were saved by one of the old Stark maids, a woman who had served the family since before the rebellion, on they day the news of the approaching Iron Born had arrived. The woman and two of the older men of the guard had pulled down as much as they could from the walls, the senior chambermaids scurried from the Lord and Lady's chamber and the Lady's solar with arms full of bundles. They stuffed everything they could into boxes down in the bowels of the keep and wrapped them in oil cloth. Marina could remember laying atop one of the boxes with another maid while a terrified page boy nailed the lid on. Each night a box was slipped out of the keep and down to the first keep's hidden tunnels. Once all of the senior members of the household were gone the younger ones ensured the boxes were well hidden.

It was a whisper in the night but one of the few things that kept the household going. The wolves would come again. They would be ready.

Now as Marina stood in a place that had been barred to them for so long, she could see the large wolves standing beside the Wierwood tree, the young Lords seated on its roots just as Lord Eddard used to, an old man standing behind them. Kneeling on the ground were the Boltons, Lord Karstark, and Lord Umber, under the watchful eye of a massive man with a bloody hammer, a woman with an arrow trained on them, and Theon Turncloak cowering to the side. A splashing sound came from the pool beside the wall, Marina could only just make out a man in black clothing and a woman or a young boy in dark brown leathers, washing their faces in the waters.

The Unsullied lined the walls around the entrance of the Godswood along with men and women covered in animal skins. _Dothraki and Wildings_ , Marina thought. They had all heard Roose Bolton raging the night before about the Starks using such wild people to force their way into the place the Bolton's had rightfully stolen. As the man and woman turned from the waters to return to the tree, several of the older people who had managed to survive gasped.

_He looks like Lord Stark_! Marina could see the similarities in them both, but the whispers when the woman reached the side of the large man holding the hammer traveled quickly.

_Lyanna and Robert Baratheon come again. Eddard returned to us!_

The wolves howled and all whispering stopped. The man in black stood to the front.

"I am Jon Stark, born a snow, bastard son of Eddard Stark. These men conspired to murder the rightful lord of this keep, they betrayed their chosen King Robb Stark. They forced a girl into marriage with Ramsay Snow to pretend they had a right to this place. They tortured and murdered their way into power, they abused the small folk of these lands. These men lied before the Old gods, they plotted to violate one of our most sacred tenants with the Lord of the Twins. When presented with the true heirs to Winterfell, my trueborn brothers and sister, their response was to announce their plans to murder my brothers and rape and murder my sister."

The woman stepped forward and kicked the prone form of Ramsay Bolton lying on the ground.

"This creature violated the sanctity of the Stark Crypts. He had starved and abused our people for long enough. His father had good Northern men slaughtered by the hundreds at the Red Wedding. Daenerys Targaryan sent her troops with me to retake our home. She does so not to retake the North, but to help remove the thieves. We have no time for crowns for now, but here in Winterfell the Starks rule. My father always told us that the one who passes the sentence should swing the sword. So it shall be now. Lords Karstark and Umber, Lord Roose Bolton, Ramsay Snow. You stand before the sacred wierwood accused of treason against King Robb Stark, murder, theft, abuse of your power, and turning your back on your people for greed. I, Lady Arya of House Stark find you guilty."

The smaller boy staked forward.

"I, Lord Rickon of House Stark, find you guilty."

"I, Lord Brandon of House Stark find you guilty. I cannot swing the sword, but Lord Howland Reed will stand for me."

"I, Jon of House Stark find you guilty, and add to your crimes, your refusal to aide the Nights Watch as all Lords of Westeros and The North are compelled to do so. You cut off much needed men and supplies."

Jon Stark paused and turned to face the Turncloak.

"Theon Greyjoy. You betrayed Robb Stark, sacked Winterfell, burned the keep, executed the senior household still loyal to the Starks. You were tortured by the Boltons, you did everything you could to help Jeyne Poole, you got her to safety. You have been spared twice by the Starks. You were told that should you ever return to the North that you would die here. You chose to return with your Iron Born, the remaining ones who helped you attack a defenseless keep that trusted you. For your aid, for your attempts to protect Jeyne Poole, your life will be spared this day. Should you survive what is coming next you will be banished to the Iron Islands with your wife. For now, you and your men will leave at dawn for the Wall, the men of the Nights watch will escort you. Return again, and Rickon will take your head."

The four condemned were dragged one at a time before the wierwood tree, to a block carried by a scarred man with an axe. Lord Umber's head was taken by young Rickon Stark, Lord Reed took Lord Karstark's, Jon Stark sank his blade into the heart of Roose Bolton before removing the man's head.

Ramsay Bolton sneered at Lady Arya as she stepped up, her little blade traded for a dagger. She pulled his head back by the hair and slowly dragged the blade across the monster's throat, the blood spraying out to pool at the base of the tree along with that of the others.

Bran Stark was silent during the executions, watching as the blood sank into the ground around the tree roots. The wolves moved walk through the gathered men and women, only stopping to stare at a few people before moving on. Each person they stopped before were grabbed and drug away by a red headed wildling and the scarred man.

"The ones we have removed were loyal to these monsters. For what is coming we cannot allow dissention. This was the first battle in the war, Winter has come for Westeros and we must all be united if we are to survive."

The crippled boy turned to pull himself up on the back of a large direwolf.

"Gather the dead, drag them outside the gates and burn them. Burn them all."

* * *

Zakar scrounged through yet another abandoned building in Kings Landing, looking for something, anything that might be edible. Food was impossible to come by in Kings Landing now. The small folk had disappeared almost over night, taking with them all of the food stores that normally would flood the city markets. The orphans had fled the day after the Sept of Baelor had been destroyed by the Mad Queen. The boy had never seen the city so empty, so quiet. The only people left were the ones who couldn’t get away, the ones who worked in the Red Keep, and the sell swords who wore the Lannister Armor. Zakar remembered finding pile after pile of Lannister armor in the days immediately after the green flames ripped though the square. The soldiers dropped it where they had stood and walked away from their posts.

The boy couldn't blame them, but as a stable boy he was watched constantly in those days. He was being watched even now as he scrounged through the remains of some families home. The ships that had supplied the city had stopped moons ago, there was no food coming in, traders ensuring to stay far away from the dead city. There were rumors that Euron Greyjoy would bring supplies, but all he did was rape the few maids that were left in the keep. The Mad Queen simply drank from sun up to sun down. Zakar had seen her at one point, with so many of the household disappearing in the night the young stable boy had been pressed into service hauling up cask after cask of wine to the kitchens. He was fine with that so long as the Maester was no where in sight.

A roar caught his attention, the shocked cries of the four sell swords outside drew the young boy to the door of the building. There, over head, was a massive, green creature. A dragon. They were real! They were here!?

Zakar looked around as the four sell swords took off running for the Keep, and he took off running for the one gate he knew was still slightly open at the edge of the city. The Mad Queen could fetch her own wine.

* * *

Marina was surprised when Lady Arya insisted on seeing all of the members of the household fed and seen to by both a maester and a Wilding healer. She and her brother's had walked every inch of the keep, assessing what should be pulled down entirely and what could be reinforced. All of this with the blood still caked on her leathers. The large man with the hammer pressed a kiss to her forehead before heading into the old forge and lighting up the fires there with instructions for anything that needed to be repaired in the kitchens to be brought to him immediately, then any axes, shovels and hammers. Only then would he repair weapons and armor.

The scarred man had stayed close to the side of Lord Bran while Lord Reed had gently carried a leather satchel to him and laid it in his lap. The boy clung to the satchel and cried, whatever it was had been surely precious to him.

After she had eaten her fill, Marina helped the young chamber maids throw open the window of the keep. The bodies were being piled onto the ruined wood from the kennels and any spare wood they could find. The maids began to throw anything that bore the sigil of House Bolton out into the courtyard to be burned. From deep in the Keep, the several boxes covered in oil cloth were brought out, in them were the banners of House Stark. Ones that had been hidden away long ago. Where were made of an old linen, not the typical wool or fabric that they normally were. These were thicker, stronger woven than any Marina had seen. And hidden in one of the boxes was a beautiful pale grey cloak with a running wolf across the shoulders. When Lady Arya had been presented with the items in the box, the girls hard grey eyes had softened and a tear had fallen as she lifted the cloak.

"This is my mother's work. A maiden's cloak."

She had smiled and thanked them for saving the small items. She ordered all of the rooms in the keep opened and made ready for use, even the ones in the first keep. The starks put the craftsmen to work building beds and rebuilding the walls. The blood from the battle hadn't even dried before walls were being torn down and the begninnings of their replacements being started. Once the bodies were removed and the burnings begun, the Unsullied immediately began helping clear the walls. The widligns split between the walls and joining the Dothraki in hunting the animals in the wolfs wood. Lady Stark was ordering them to stock the keep's stores with as much salted meat as they could and get as much food stored as possible. She was preparing for something.

A few hours before the sun began to set, Bran Stark rode his direwolf to the Southern Gate and waited. Slowly his siblings joined him, along with the new Blacksmith. A group began to be visible on the road, a red haired man, a large knight, a man with only one hand and many others. A wagon carrying several women were behind them. The Starks allowed them entrance into the keep without a word, Arya turning her face to the Blacksmith's chest as young Rickon hid his in her side. A young woman stepped down from the wagon holding a leather bag and gently stepped twoards Bran. Lord Reed helped a frail looking woman from the wagon and lead her to the godswood, followed by the young woman and Lord Bran. A Lord wearing plate armor adorned by a fish shook hands with Lord Jon, the blonde knight started to kneel before the man stopped her and gestured to the man with a stump for an arm. The scarred man, who she had learned was named Clegane, had approached and led them off to the broken tower where several of those who were not well trusted were being housed under the guard of the several smaller wolves and Unsullied.

Marina smiled to watch a girl about the age of Lord Rickon slowly approach Lady Arya and the Blacksmith, only to see the Lady's arm shoot out and pull the girl to her. She smiled as a woman with short dark hair gently placed her hand on the blacksmith's arm and smiled up at him. She had no idea who these people were but they seemed to be very welcome. She would make sure they had a good meal and would put a word in with the new housekeeper that they should have good rooms near the family. Rickon shook hands with a small boy who looked around fearfully as though a enemy would manifest in the very air before him.

As sun set, Marina noticed flickering lights from the godswood, and the cloak she had presented to Lady Arya earlier, was draped across the shoulders of someone walking towards the entrance with Lord Rickon on one side and Lord Jon on the other. Shouts a few moments later confirmed the gossip in the kitchen. Lady Arya had taken the Blacksmith as her husband.

At dawn the next day everyone was gathered, including Theon Turncloak and his Iron Born before they left for the wall. The starks stood on the steps of the Great Hall, Lord's Jon and Rickon each holding a leather bag.

Lord Bran leaned forward on his chair to get every one's attention.

"Today we are joyful. We have retaken our home from those who sought to steal everything it meant to be of the North. My sister Lady Arya Stark, has wed Gendry, son of Robert Baratheon. A man recognized by my father years ago in Kings Landing, one whom my father tried to protect. The Starks are once more in Winterfell, and shall remain so. There will always be a Stark in Winterfell from this day. We have word from our friends in the Reach and Dorne that grain and cattle is on it's way, because Winter is coming. We have much work to do, wall's to rebuild, crops to harvest, and meat to preserve. The game is coming South from beyond the Wall, we would be foolish to waste it. This winter will be unlike any we have seen for a thousand years. We are also grieving. Grieving all we have lost, all that was taken from us. Several years ago my father, Eddard Stark was executed in Kings Landing on false charges of treason. His bones were smuggled out of Kings Landing and taken to my mother by someone posing as an ally. She knew the person could not be trusted, so she had my fathers bones placed in the care of a man she knew she could trust. Everyone traveling with him was killed and a box was recovered containing bones. The man my mother trusted survived and was able to reach the Neck where Lord Howland Reed found him and a leather satchel. That satchel was given to me by Lord Reed yesterday after the battle was won. In it, were the bones of my father Eddard Stark. Last night a company arrived from the south, my Uncle Brynden Tully amongst them and my brother Robb's widow, Jeyne Westerling. Jeyne carried with her something truly precious, something we had never hoped to recover. The bones of Robb Stark and his direwolf Grey Wind. The Starks have returned, today we bury those who should have always rested here where they belong. Today we will mourn, today we will purge this place of whatever is left of the Bolton's and their ilk. Tomorrow we will begin preparations for what is to come."

Marina wiped tears from her eyes as the family moved to the crypt and Lady Arya's new husband lifed Lord Bran into his arms and descended into the darkness followed by the others. Ser Davos was in discussion with the stonecutter's apprentice handing him several rolled up parchments.

The days following were filled with salting meat, and the scents of tanning fur's, the sound of metal clanging from the forge, and the shouts of me repairing the walls. The maids scoured the many bedrooms being prepared for use in the remaining first keep. The Stormlanders had thrown their hands in to help harvest what crops had survived as the many Lords of the North departed for their own keeps with orders to prepare. A group of Wildlings had left for the Dreadfort to give orders to Jon Stark's ally there. Stannis Baratheon had sat in Lord Starks chamber for days talking with Lord Reed, eventually calling for his daughter. The next dawn saw Stannis leading the Unsullied to the Wall at their request as the young Lady stood in the courtyard weeping softly in the arms of Lord Jojen Reed.

_____

Callen loved being at Highgarden, everyday was a new adventure. Working with Lord Willias and his dogs. Training the yard with Lord Garlan giving direction, and Lord Dayne good naturedly correcting him. The Khalessi was kind and beautiful, and Missandei was teaching him valerian. The only thing he hated was Lord Aegon. Callen thought the man was rude and arrogant, and took no small amount of pleasure when Drogon nearly ate the man for daring to try to ride him.

Today was a new adventure, Lord Willas had received several letters. The usual communications from the other houses of the Reach, but one stood out, it had a deep green seal and he could smell the wet earth from it. Lord Willas didn't open it, but asked Callen to please bring Lord Dayne to the solar.

Callen knew right where to find Lord Dayne at this time of the morning. Khalessi Daenerys' room. The boy knocked and dutifully requested the Lord join Lord Willas as quickly as he was able. The man had smiled and reached beside the door to pull on his tunic as the lady appeared beside him. They had quickly made their way to the Lord of the Reach's solar. Callen had gone about preparing drinks for them while the nobles talked.

Lord Dayne had cracked the seal and read over the letter.

"I didn't recognize the house sigil so I sent for you immediately. Do you know who its from?"

Lord Dayne nodded and looked up.

"I do, we need your grandmother here. And the Martells that we trust. Keep Aegon and Alleria away from here."

Willas nodded and sent Callen to fetch the Ladies and Lord as requested, Lady Olenna looking none to please at being pulled away from the house books.

"Well boy? What is it?"

Lord Dayne was quiet for a moment staring at the seal.

"I've had word from my Aunt Ashara."

Everyone in the room went still, Callen took this to mean that this Lady was quite important.

"Ashara Dayne is quite dead young man. She threw herself off the tower of her home."

Edric Dayne smiled.

"She did not. She married a Northern Lord and left our home with their newborn daughter. Do you remember what King Robert was like after the rebellion? How he treated those loyal to the Targaryen's?"

Lady Olenna narrowed her eyes.

"We were all treated fairly well considering if I recall."

"And those loyal to Rhaegar?"

The old woman's eyes widened slightly.

"They were either killed or exiled. Its why Oberyn Martell was in Essos for so long."

"Exactly. My Aunt Ashara did fall in love at Harenhall, but it wasn't with Lord Eddard. When Lord Stark returned Dawn to my family, he brought his vassal with him. Lord Howland Reed. The same man my aunt romanced at the tourney."

Olenna's jaw dropped.

"You mean she's alive? Has been this whole time? Why?"

"She knew she wasn't safe, more importantly Lord Stark knew she wasn't safe. Where could she be safer than in the North. The land controlled by Robert's closest friend, married to one of his vassals who was notorious for never leaving their keep, and with the father of her child? Ashara's marriage was the only good thing to come out of that entire mess."

Daenerys looked confused for a moment.

"She was loyal to my brother, was the woman in the tower with Lady Lyanna correct? What does any of this have to do with what's going on?"

"Because according to this cypher, Lyanna bore a son in that tower. Two men rode away from that tower as the story goes, what isn’t mentioned is that they carried away a woman and a babe."

Olenna gasped as she leaned forward.

"By the gods. The Bastard of Ned Stark is Rhaegar and Lyanna's son! My Queen it appears that you are not as alone in the world as you thought."

Daenerys eyes glittered. "Can you be sure of this?"

Lord Dayne nodded.

"We need to get to the Neck, my Aunt assures me that Lady Stark will be setting out for the Twins within the week along with your Dothraki and half of the Unsullied. If we hurry we can meet her there and put that to rights. It seems we need to unite Westeros sooner rather than later."

Daenerys nodded and stared out of the window for a moment.

"Will he take my throne do you think? Westrosi seem to feel that women cannot rule."

"Arya spoke of Jon Snow often when we were younger, he does not seem to be one to seek power."

Callen started from his spot when Garlan Tyrell shot to his feet.

"Jon Stark, hated command. His last saw him stabbed repeatedly. I doubt he's going to want anything to do with leadership. He's a general, not a King."

"And he's family. I have little enough of that these days. Let us get to the Neck, we will assess the situation in Kings Landing as we go. From all reports the city has been abandoned. We may not have to take the city. Send word to the Kraken Queen, destroy Euron's fleet by whatever means necessary. We are going north to meet our allies, and to remind the Lord of the Twins what the price is for breaking faith."

Willas nodded and rose before one of the Martell ladies asked what to do about Lord Aegon.

"Let him come with us, he feels like he deserves to be king? Let him prove it. But no one will speak of Rhaegar's son. I find out one person shares this information beyond these walls and I will personally feed them to Drogon."

Callen gathered the goblets to clean them up before turning to ask the beautiful woman.

"Khalessi, if you leave how will your green dragon find you?"

She smiled softly at his question.

"Rheagal knows how to find me should he need me, but right now I do not think it is me he needs. He went north for a reason, and now I think I know what that might be. Would you like to know a secret Callen?"

The boy nodded eagerly.

"I think Rhaegal went to find his rider."


	16. A Little Fall of Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter Comes for House Frey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm still alive! Its been a stressful summer and it pretty much killed any inspiration I had, but I'm back and finally happy with this chapter. Enjoy!

She didn’t remember it raining this much the last time she was in the Riverlands. True it had been years ago and much had changed, fall was well and truly beginning to end and winter was approaching rapidly. Now was the time for fields to be harvested for the final time, game to be trapped and hunted and preserved. And yet in the burned and empty country side there was nothing to be found beyond wild grasses that had slowly taken over the once fertile fields of the Riverlands, much to the joy of the Dothraki and their horses as they travelled. The rain had made the distribution of grain more difficult, but it did somewhat cloak their movements. The Dothraki hadn't understood why they were giving grain to villages, giving charity went against everything they believed in. At least until one young healer asked where the men of the villages were.

Dead, nothing but widows and young children to try and tend the fields that had survived unburned. Any animals had either been killed by one of the many armies to blaze a path of destruction or had fled the coming cold further south. 

A man cannot ride and provide for his woman if there are no men, no horses. Alysanne Mormont made notes of which villages were obliterated completely and which ones were on the brink. She had brought some members of the northern houses to bear witness to the dragons of Daenyrs Targaryan and she had been sickened by the destruction of the north and the Riverlands. By the end of winter, House Bolton would be responsible to several hundred dead if not more, all because of their greed. Orphans and what widows were willing to leave were sent to Riverrun on the order of Lord Edmure Tully.

The rain never stopped.

* * *

Nymeria kept pace with Arya and Gendry's horses, the large male had remained in Winterfell with a portion of the pack of wolves. Between the wild Direwolf and his pack, Summer, Shaggydog and Ghost, Arya felt confident that her brothers would be alright. Jon had his men, his black brothers and his wildlings, her brothers were together and safe. Jon and Howland would keep the boys away from Lady Stoneheart, the creature had disappeared into the Stark crypts the night of her wedding and refused to surface again. She had called for both Bran and Rickon each, but never Arya and certainly never Jon. Bran had refused to go, Rickon had but only for a moment. Which had ended with him tucked tightly in the arms of his sister as Gendry laid Harwin out with a single blow for trying to force the boy back down there. Mya had quickly swept the young Stark lord into lessons with his cousin under the watchful eye of herself and Shireen. Sandor had taken up a place beside Meera, guarding Bran Stark as he sat for hours on end in the Godswood. Weasel had taken a shine to Lady Jeyne and the two were often seen reading over the old Maesters healing texts. Arya shifted uncomfortably as she tried to push away the pain of being rejected by what was left of her mother, but as she had once told Davos "Mother didn’t every truly approve of me while she was alive, why should death be any different. She loved me, but she never approved of who I was. She never saw me." The Blackfish had offered to ride south with her, but she asked him to remain in the North, to council her brothers as they needed someone experienced in actual battle tactics and keep defense.

* * *

As they approached the Twins the rain came harder than ever before. The only breaks came at night, the forest surrounding the keep providing enough cover for the encampment to be well hidden from those within. Tonight the clouds had eased and the Twins stood clear in the evening sky as Arya stared at them from the treeline, noting how the castle on this side of the river held the flickering light of fires, and yet the other keep was completely dark. Despite the number of women and children seeming to head their for the night.

_Keeps his precious sons in one and his daughters and their children in another. Few enough fires, only for the Lord and his most prized spawn_.

Arya sneered at the thought of those monsters, the ones who butchered her people. Her brother.

Her eyes burned at the edges as the tried to pull Robb's face to her mind, but it had been so long since she had seen him, standing in the courtyard as they rode away, his bright copper hair shining and his blue eyes. What she could clearly remember was how the blood from Greywind's head slowly dripped down his doublet, how the wounds to his chest had still leaked the thick black blood. She could remember the smell of the fires and the cries of the dying. Arya inhaled deeply as she felt the rage and pain begin to well up in her again, the farther south she had come the harder it had been to push it aside. Gendry had dealt with more than a little snappish attitude and reflective silence as they had gotten closer, and he had let her alone, seeing to her needs and working with Lady Mormont to ensure that everyone was able to get dry as the sun went down and get a warm meal in their bellies. Quiet and steady had been exactly what Arya needed, a grounding presence when all of her faceless conditioning slipped to be replaced by an angry, grieving, vengeful sister. Tonight was the last Arya would spend in the camp, tomorrow her mission began. Within the next sennight Daenerys and her forces would be here and they would turn their eyes to Kings Landing. The dragon queen refusing to break her word to Arya that she would be there for the death of the Mad Lion, a raven from the mysterious Lady Reed indicated that she would be joining them as well.

Arya straightened and made her way back into the thick of the woods, to the tent she shared with Gendry and Nymeria. She pulled off her sodden leathers as she watched him reverently hone the tiny blade in his hand, the cutting edge no longer than her thumb. Sat beside him was a special vial of oil she had provided him. Arya squeezed her wet hair in a scrap of linen cloth and ensured she was as dry as she could be before slipping under the top fur of their pallet and curling around her husbands back, letting his warmth and strength seep into her skin. Gendry said nothing just continued his work until he was satisfied, and once the blade was placed reverently on a piece of white velvet, he too stripped to the skin and curled up with his wife.

When the sun rose, Arya was gone. Thunder growled across the sky, but the camp was still shielded from the rain.

* * *

It was easier than she thought getting into the keep itself, using the face of a lovely girl but one who was beaten half to death by her family for some misplaced sense of honor and the face of a sickly child Arya was able to seek out all of the boltholes and secret parts of the keep. She was able to observe Lord Frey and his son's behaviors, and proud peacocks that they were, their routines. It was on the second day that the sickly child had been tasked with taking a basket of bread down to the dungeons of the place. For the "prisoners", no one would say who they were but it was apparent that Lord Frey wanted them alive, not well. Arya soon found out why.

"Who are you? Not one of Frey's get are you? "

"I am no one, Mi'lord."

"No lord lad. Not any longer, I figure my second heir has long taken over my house since my son died here."

Arya stared hard at the tall thin man behind the barred cell door.

"Who are you?"

"Come now lad, surely you remember from the hundreds of times your lord had dragged us out for his little celebrations. To gloat over his triumph of murdering our king under guest rights. Make us kneel beside that damned stain where he let our Kings life blood stain his floors."

Arya dropped the basket, gently pulling the child's face from her own. She needed to hear this with her own ears.

"The bastard celebrates the slaughter of my people? My brother and my mother?"

The mans head turned slowly to look at her for a moment before he moved closer to try and see her in the weak torch light.

"Who are you woman? You look like a ghost, but older than the woman ever became."

"I am Arya, of House Stark."

Deep breaths echoed down the stone hallway, followed by the sound of shuffling as the pale thin faces tried to peer at her.

"Princess, I am Jon of House Umber. Once known as Greatjon. We thought you dead my lady."

"Not much of a Lady, GreatJon, and even less of a princess. I am alive, and I bring winter for House Frey. Your house is in ruin, your nephew dead after choosing to align with the Boltons over House Stark. I will get you all out of here, and back to the North. We are going to need every good Northman we can find for what coming."

Greatjon nodded and stepped back as Arya moved back into the shadows. By the morning, the stale loves of bread had been replaced with oats and meat, and the single meal had become several smaller ones slowly building up the strength of the prisoners without overwhelming them.

* * *

After five days Arya was ready to strike, it was easy enough to lure the sons away. A new maid with a plump figure and pretty smile was all it had taken to get the men to come away with her. With their horses missing and their hunting gear gone, it was easy to explain their absence. The cook never questioned the meat that was far to large to be that of a few dead piglets, and as the meat pies the Lord had requested for that evenings meal baked, the hogs slept off full bellies and ignored the meager slop in their trough. And when the pies were ready, the pretty maid quietly carried them straight to the privet chamber of Lord Frey for his meeting with his sons.

Arya had to fight the near hysterical giggle that tried to tear from her as she shoved the blood soaked clothes into the fire of the Lords chamber. As she scrubbed the blood from her face and her hands a nock sounded at the door, and the first test of her new acquisition was an easy one as the Lady Frey was informed she should seek out her own chamber for the night as the lord was occupied.

The next morning Lord Frey ordered a lavish banquet be prepared and for all of those who were worthy prepare to attend, the women and children would not be needed that night beyond a few serving girls. Arya had slipped into the cellar with her small pouch of vials, which separately were harmless, but if mixed in the right amounts could create a draught that would kill if even the smallest amount was consumed. Once it was added to the wine for the evening, Arya simply had to wait.

* * *

Gendry looked up from the armor he was repairing by the fire as cheers went up from the Dothraki, a large shape flew overhead and came to a landing in a clearing out of sight from the keep. The rain had begun to let up, and while the camp was still well protected and dry, the easing of the rain meant the skies would be clearer for the keep. Which meant they could see the dragon, even if it was pitch black.

Gendry nodded to Lady Mormont as the Unsullied moved to prepare a tent for their Queen, and the two moved forward to greet the woman emerging from the treeline and the two men behind her.

"Lord Gendry Stark."

"Your Grace. Welcome to the Riverlands."

Daenerys smiled gently at the man as Ned stepped forward and greeted his childhood companion. Lady Mormont stared in shock as Drogon's head pushed its way through the trees to snort at them before retreating.

"How long has she been in there?"

Gendry turned and motioned for the Queen to accompany him to the edge of the clearing where the view was the least obstructed.

"Seven days. She told me I would know when it was time to go down there. Didn’t want any of us close until then and wanted me to give the message that no one is to drink anything found there."

Ned Dayne nodded.

"Well that’s cryptic. How are you supposed to know when?"

Nymeria suddenly shot to her feet staring intently at the Twins, before letting out a low howl and beginning to walk towards them.

"Nevermind."

Daenerys gathered the healers among the Dothraki on a whim and walked alongside Lady Mormont as Gendry walked with Ned. Behind them a man with a faint blue tinge to the tips of his pale hair cursed as he slipped in mud.

"And that is?"

"Claims he's Aegon Targaryen. Rhaegar's infant son."

"Ah. And he is still breathing because?"

"He has some support in Dorne and the Stormlands, and Dany has lost enough family as it is. She hates him, but if he is to be believed, he is family."

Gendry nodded as he snuck another glance and the man stomping behind them.

"Do you believe him?"

"Drogon keeps trying to eat him and Rheagal nearly set the stupid man on fire before he took off. My understanding is Dragon's like true Targaryans."

The gates of the keeps lower baily stood open, with women and children making their way slowly across the bridge aside from the older ones. There were no guards, no sound from within the keep. Torches were being lit and Lady Mormont gasped when she saw the decorations on the walls. Burned and stained battle standards. Northern Standards. Gendry stared in disgust and didn’t watch his feet, resulting in him tripping over a large mound of earth. As he made to stand he could see the shadows of many more such mounds. A woman stood near them holding a bag over her shoulder, her face blank from shock.

"Mind where you step my lords, my ladies. Don't disturb their rest. I am Lady Frey, welcome to the Twins. The Keep is yours and I am leaving."

Daenerys stepped forward slowly so as not to startle the woman.

"My lady, what are these?"

"My husband wouldn't let us bury them, left the poor things to rot in the sun and rain. We were able over time to get them under some earth, but the bones never settled. We tried to group who we could by house, but there wasn't much left."

Ned looked around in horror, these mounds hid the bones of those who were murdered at the Red Wedding.

"This is a graveyard."

The lady nodded and walked past them all out into the night. The doors to the keep opened and thin men slowly made their way out into the fresh air, some stopping to speak with Lady Mormont, others being pulled along by the Dothraki healers. Gendry watched Nymeria climb the steps before turning to look at him, and he quickly followed. He thought he knew what Arya was capable of, but he was mistaken. The hall was covered in bodies, overturned benches and tables, spilled wine and thick congealed blood. There was a clear path down the center that led to the high table where his wife sat beside a man. Gendry gently made his way forward as the rest of their party reached the doorway, Daenerys and Ned stared in horror at the grisly scene, Aegon vomited, and Lady Mormont smiled softly as she wiped a tear from her face.

_Winter has come for them Dacey_.

As Gendry reached the table, the man made to pull Arya behind him, but relaxed once he saw the grey direwolf on his doublet.

"Stark man then? You look familiar."

"Her husband mi'lord. Is she alright?"

Greatjon looked down at the woman beside him and nodded.

"She isn't hurt I don’t think, but she hasn't moved since she ordered us released. I'm afraid to leave her, but if you’re her man then I suppose I can trust you with our Princess."

Arya flinched at that.

"I am no princess."

"Not one of them frilly southron creatures no. No you’re a Princess of the North, harder, stronger, fiercer than anything in the South."

Lady Mormont stepped forward.

"L…Lord Umber? Your alive?"

Greatjon nodded and slowly made his way to the woman and started walking out into the fresher air.

"Greatjon?" He turned and faced Arya once again.

"Where?"

A tear slid from her eye as her voice creaked out the single word, and at Greatjon's direction she found her self kneeling next to a old deep red stain on the flagstone floor. Her small hands splayed out to cover the stain as her body shook. The tears flooded her eyes as she gasped for breath though the sobs now overwhelming her.

"I… I did it Robb. I got them. I got them all. House Frey is ended. I was finally able to get them. Were safe now. We're all safe, Jon, the boys, Jeyne. All of us. We're safe. I'm sorry Robb, I'm so sorry. I wasn't fast enough. I was so close. I should have been there. I could have stopped it. I could have done something. I'm so sorry Robb." Gentle hands pulled her against a broad chest as Gendry wrapped his arms around his wife. He knew this was coming, she had bottled up this grief, this guilt for so long and she was finally able to let it go. Dainty steps reached them and Gendry looked up into the gentle violet eyes of Daenerys as she knelt on a clean patch of stone beside them, she didn’t say a word simply placed a gentle hand on Arya's shoulder. Support from one little sister who had lost a brother she loved to another. Slowly Arya calmed and pulled her face away to survey the carnage surrounding them.

"Lady Stark. I know we discussed allowing your Uncle's child to rule this place. But this keep is unholy ground, what was done here to your people was unspeakable. It's continued existence is an affront to the gods, all of the gods."

Arya nodded and turned to face the Dragon Queen.

"Burn it to the ground."

Gendry stood slowly and the trio made their way out of the great hall, through the lower baily and out into the clearing between the keep and the forest. Daenerys gave an order for her Dothraki to strip the keep of any valuables and release any animals they found, food stores were to be moved over to the other keep. In less than an hour the Riverlands side of the Twins was a bonfire that Gendry thought would be visible from Kings Landing.

Drogon landed to allow Dany to slide from his back before returning to the sky to add more flames to the fire, and as she approached Thoros joined them along with a woman with dark hair and shining purple eyes.

"My ladies. This is Lady Reed, or as I knew her so long ago, Ashara Dayne."


	17. The First Attack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead! This has been a slow one to get out because frankly I had no idea how to make any of this work. Hopefully it does. If not... well it at least gets us to the good parts.

As the sun set Bran could hear the whispers from the Godswood, he knew the Raven was calling out to him. It had grown louder as the day had progressed, leading Bran to believe something was happening, or had happened that he needed to see. Satin appeared from seemingly nowhere and silently wheeled the young Stark outside before Bran could even ask.

"How do you do that? I see everything and yet you know what I need before I do."

Satin smiled for a moment considering his answer, but as the boy himself said that he saw everything so there was only the truth.

"I grew up in a brothel, m'lord. I learned early how to anticipate what those around me need. Just a simple matter of watching behaviors of those around me and acting accordingly. 'S why I made such a damn good steward on the wall, and it doesn't hurt that I care about those here."

Bran smiled widely.

"Like Jon?"

Satin's breath puffed out in a grey cloud before him.

"Aye, and you, and Rickon, and Arya and her grumpy husband. You Starks have a way about you, you wrap people up in your little pack without them even knowing. Now as to what I was saying, you tend to get twitchy around sunset if you haven't been out to the Godswood much during the day. Just like Rickon gets twitchy if those axes are too far from him. Lord Reed is spending the evening with his children, apparently he is going back to the south to help ensure the supplies your sister promised. So once you started twisting your neck and stretching your shoulders, I knew it would be better to get you there sooner rather than later."

Bran snorted a laugh as he nodded.

"You were correct in that assumption Lord Flowers. Thank you. Summer will be here shortly with Shaggy dog. He's been out hunting with part of the Pack that Nymeria left behind."

As the pair entered the silent grove of trees, the large grey male rose from his spot at the base of the tree and joined them. Bran slid from his chair and settled himself on the low roots of the tree, the Grey curling around his feet and resting his large head on Bran's lap. Summer and Shaggy silently joined him ensuring that Bran would be warm under his furs and living companions. His eyes clouded until they matched the snow around him.

Satin took a seat across from him and pulled a stick and a small knife from his boot and began to carve.

* * *

Arya had been jittery all day, something was coming. She could feel it, had felt eyes watching them for several days since they had left the smouldering ruins of the Twins. Gendry had been patient to a point, but even he was getting tired of Arya's constant fiddling with the hilt of Needle. They were camped a few leagues from the walls of King Landing, where once Arya remembered a thick forest there were only stumps and shoddily cut limbs from the trees. Gendry had sneered when Aegon had complained about the stench wafting from the silent city gates, mumering under his breath that if this bothered the Princeling he wouldn’t last ten seconds in Flea Bottom. Daenerys had snorted into the wine glass she had been drinking from and the pair shared a conspiratorial glance. On the road Ashara had revealed that Gendry was a cousin to her and in her desire for a connection to any type of family, the dragon queen had cornered the blacksmith and convinced him to dine with her. Gendry's disgust for all things highborn held true, and so did the apparent exception for his new found family, he could see the same hatred for the destruction of the small folk in Daenerys’ eyes, how she hated slavery with a visceral fire. She had lived among the lowest of the low, had been beaten and sold, humiliated and alone, and she still fought for what she felt was right. He could respect that. 

Arya and Daenerys had been sending sporadic ravens. With each one they received, Arya looked saddened for a moment before writing a response and sealing it with black wax and a small dragon signet.

As night began to fall Arya's back snapped straight, Gendry rolled his eyes until he saw Nymeria's head rise, followed by her form. Her head low between her shoulders and her ears flat against her head, the giant wolf slowly made her way towards Arya's side. Daenerys' head turned slightly as she watched the long necks of Drogon and Viserion rise from the clearing where they had been resting, their heads turning to face in opposite directions.

* * *

Stannis rested in the Lord Commander’s chamber looking over the ravens he had received from the Lords of the Stormlands. Shireen worked quicker than he could have anticipated, as all of the houses swore loyalty to her as their Lady, and made sure to renounce him as a king. He could see now that he would never have been able to rule, but Shireen could, Shireen would rule them better than he or either of his brothers could. Their petty war and the destruction wreaked by the Lannisters had weakened the once proud Stormlands to the point of barely hanging on. Shireen would heal it, she was a caring girl… woman. Stannis rested his head against the chair, Shireen was a woman grown now. If he was honest he was somewhat surprised that none of the missives he had received had contained marriage offers for her, then again he wasn't sure how many men of her age were still living in Westeros. She would choose though, he had taken so much from her but that was one thing he could give her.

The wind had been howling over the wall all day, the snow swirling in fat flakes reflecting the light from the torches. As the sun set, the wind suddenly stilled. Stannis heard the sudden quiet and made his way outside. Theon Greyjoy stood on the walkway of the wall staring out in the sudden darkness. Stannis stepped up to join the shaken man and looked out into the still air. The other man's skittish behavior had eased somewhat over time, but now the man looked ready to jump out of his skin. Slowly more men made their way to the parapets of the Wall, Stannis could feel the hair on the back of his neck slowly start to rise as more torches were added to the night. As he gazed out into the blackness, Stannis realized that something was looking back.

_______

Asha stared at the harbor of Kings Landing, still littered with destroyed ships charred and broken. A less skillful captain would have given the harbor up for lost. But Asha was one of the best, and so was her uncle Euron. Yes the man was mad but as a captain he was brilliant. And his men were among the best, functioning like extensions of Euron's arms… or tentacles. When she was a child Asha had been in awe of her uncle's control over his crew, now however with men of her own, Asha could see the failures in his method of captaincy. She could see that Euron didn’t trust his men to think on their own, it's why he controlled them so tightly. She could also tell he was scared, Asha had heard of his search for the Dragon Horn. An artifact of children's tales, just as much as the dragon's themselves. She had seen the creatures herself, had felt the heat of their flames on her skin. And as her ship crept along the coast in the fading light, she would have given anything to have even one of them with her now.

Then a barrel along the shoreline caught her eye, as did the glowing green fluid seeping through the cracks in the decaying wood. Asha stared harder at the shoreline, and in the setting sun she could see the faint glow of more barrels. Under the twinkling stars four of her best men were already on their way back to the ship, towing those barrels behind them.

_____

Bran stared in shock from behind the tree where he hid, before him was a girl just barely older than Sansa had been when she left. A girl who looked so much like Arya it was unsettling, especially when she was gazing so warmly at the man before her. He could only be Rhaegar, with his hair glowing in the sunlight and the pewter grey doublet stitched with a glowing red dragon.

_ Is this when it happens? When he abducts her? When the war begins? Why is there a septon? _

Bran fought to keep his jaw closed as he watched the septon approach along with a woman with dark hair and purple eyes and a handsome kingsguard. His knees shook as he watched the septon place her hand in his and watched his mouth move.

_ SHE MARRIED HIM! _

_ \------------------- _

Gendry swung his hammer through yet another golden breastplate, the thin material crumpling under the force of the blow. A few feet from him he watched as Arya spun to dodge a clumsy blow from an attacker and ended up with the tip of Needle peeking through the back of the man's throat and a serene smile on his wifes face. A grunt to his side caught his attention away from his bloodthirsty bride to see Grey Worm skewer a man from the side and fling him into his comrades. Aegon stood back from the frey shouting out orders that were being ignored, although from the look of the blood on his sword the man had at least done something as the wall of gold clad men charged into the camp at night. Daenerys danced through to thong swirling the arakh of her bloodriders with a deadly grace born from both natural skill and from hours of watching her people fight, Ned Dayne at her side with the firelight glinting off the steel of the Morning Star. Lady Reed was tucked back with the dragons and a small number of Nymeria's wolves, picking off the ones trying to flee with a borrowed bow. Gendry turned to slam his fist into the face of a man trying to sneak up on him but Nymeria beat him to the target. Her jaws breaking the man's neck and severing the head in one bite. The roar from the Northerner's still with them echoed in the night blending with the war cries of the Dothraki who had been itching for a good fight. 

They had tried to take them by surprise only for the Dragons and wolves to sense them approaching. Arya had stared right at an archer as he loosed an arrow aimed at Daenerys, and Aegon had barely spared a glance at the gold skulls on the armor before crying "Golden Company. Sell swords for the Lannisters."

These Golden Company outnumbered them by half, and yet their armor was cheap, badly fitted and their supposed skill in battle appeared to be nothing more than myth, and the skill of the Unsullied and Dothraki combined was more than a match for them. Gendry pulled his hammer back on his shoulder as the cries of war turned into shouts of victory. A few survivors tried to run, but the ones the Dothraki didn’t run down, the wolves did. The dragons were already moving around through the trees to inspect the battlefield. Gendry still wasn't sure why they hadn't taken to the sky, but with the dry land around them he was glad they hadn't. There was still some wheat in the fields, and a grass fire was not something they needed.

Arya picked her way over to him, stowing her blades in their sheaths before jumping into his arms and crushing her lips to his. One arm wrapped tightly around Arya's waist while the other held tightly to the handle of his warhammer. As he set her back down he could see a speculative look cross Aegon's face as he looked at Arya, followed by a glare in his direction. The Dornish women with him glared hard at Aegon as they followed his line of sight before Ashara, Ned and Daenerys joined them. Dimly Gendry could hear Grey Worm ordering his men to clear the bodies for the dragons and wolves.

Aegon spoke first, looking at the dark form of the walls before them.

"This is all that’s left of the Company I commanded? This was pathetic. I can only imagine what taking the city will be like."

Daenerys shook her head.

"We won't be taking the city. From what the Tyrells were able to find out from their informants, the city is deserted. No, we won't fight in the streets where Cersei's men can hide like rats and bottleneck us. A small group will go in. Gendry, you know this city, Arya you have the skills to get us into the keep. I will see the home of my family and we will all see Cersei Lannister dead."

* * *

Bran stares at the scene before him before a shrill CAW forces him to turn his head, and take in the smooth pale grey stone of the room in which he finds himself. Faintly he can hear the whistle of wind through doors not totally closed. A broad shouldered man has a giggling maid caught in a corner in a manner Bran recognised from Theon chasing the scullery maids. A throat was cleared and a young page boy held out two letters to the man as the maid slipped under his arm and scurried away. The man's long black hair shone in the light of the torches as he clenched the letters in his hand.

"Did you read these? Did the Maester?"

The page shook his head as he backed away from the furious man.

"No m'lord. I can't read yet and the Maester broke the seal only to see who they were for.

The large man nodded and pulled one of the messages free and reread it. He then held it to the flame of the torch nearest to him and watched in silence as the ashes floated to the ground.

"There was only one letter boy. Tell the Maester he was mistaken in his notations, there was only one letter for me. And find Eddard Stark and have him meet me in Lord Arryn's solar. Something terrible has happened."

The boy turned and fled.

The Raven's wings flapped.

* * *

Stannis watched in horror as the small reflected lights grew more and more numerous. And seemed to be moving closer. It would appear the Free Folk among them agreed as bonfires lit all along the Wall, casting a faint light down to the distant ground. Stannis looked down to ensure his footing and a movement on the wall itself caught his eye. He grabbed a torch from one of Theon's Ironborn and leaned out over the edge of the wall. The light of the torch was reflected in eight icy eyes and in a layer of ice encasing pincers as long as Stannis' hands.

"ICE SPIDERS!"

Two blows on a horn and men were scrambling for their weapons as a sudden wave of icy spiders, and half frozen walking corpses lunged up from where they had been quietly climbing and over the edge of the wall to confront the living men there. Stannis swung his sword, and it bounced off of the creature's skin. A Night's watch man ran out carrying an armful of small black knives and shoved them into as many hands as he could.

"The Obsidian or Valerian steel is all that kills them. That and fire."

Stannis and Theon each grabbed a knife and started stabbing wildly as more and more of the creatures came over the wall, men on either side of them grabbed torches in both hands and swung them like clubs trying to knock the Wights back. Dimly Theon could hear screams as men were pulled from the wall and simply dropped into the thin air, or when the icy pincers caught a man's arm or neck. The cold was getting worse as the night wore on, and the men grew more and more weary. Some of the little black knives shattered and men resorted to slashing with the shards.

A dark shape rose overhead and blotted out the few stars that had been seen. A loud roar accompanied a sudden rush of blistering heat before them. The dead creatures screamed and pitched themselves backward off of the Wall. Stannis and Theon covered their eyes with their arms as the flaming heat rushed back and forth along the wall as men dove for cover all around them. Except for the small group of the Unsullied who had come to the Wall with Stannis. Their commander stood tall with a smile. As the heat diminished and a gust of wind traveled back over the Wall heading south.

Stannis shoved to his feet and stormed towards the Unsullied.

"What the fuck was that?"

The Commander smiled coldly at him.

"Dragon."

* * *

Black feathers fall away and Bran suddenly found himself sitting waist deep in a river, a battle raging around him, the screams of the dying and roars of anger and his own heart beating in his ears. A hammer slammed into the ground to his side, causing Bran to spin to see a scene from his fathers worst nightmare. A knight in black armor with a dragon made of glinting rubies, his helmet forged to resemble every etching Bran had ever seen of a dragon, the spikes along his gauntlets already shining with blood, and facing him was a golden demon. Charcoal grey steel gilded along the edges, bearing a rearing stag, and on his head a helm of gilded steel with sharp antlers rising the length of a man's arm over his head. The tines were tinged red and blood dripping downwards. A smokey steel sword against a hammer with as many antler points as the helm. Bran stared in horror as the red and gold demons battled, the red planting his foot in the gut of the golden, pushing him away.

"Stop this Baratheon! End this rebellion now! We can end my father and there will be peace in Westeros!"

The golden demon pulls the face cover from his helm, and Bran suddenly fears for anyone who gets in Gendry's way.

"You think this is about your fool of a father? Eddard will kill him if I don't. You took my woman. And I will kill you for it!"

The dragon pulled his face shield down.

"This is about Lyanna? She WROTE to you, she told you she couldn't be what you wanted. She is my wife Baratheon."

"SHE IS MINE!"

The hammer comes up and the dragon dodges, he turns to swing the sword, but misses the boot aiming for his knees. The dragon falls to the ground and the stag buries his hammer in the man's chest. Bran stares in horror as the stag drags the wounded dragon to the shallow stream and shoves him beneath the water. A second blow knocks the rubies from the dragon's chest, and the Stag leans on the handle as the dragons talons claw in the air above the water for a few minutes until the still and drop into the red flowing water.

* * *

Asha Greyjoy had seen some horrors in her time. But this… this green liquid. Even having it on her ship made her skin crawl. She had heard the story of the Battle of Blackwater Bay, how Tyrion’s forces had hurled barrels of a vivid green liquid that exploded when exposed to flame. It had decimated Stannis's fleet, caused the wreckage she had carefully navagated her ships through. She knew that the Silence had seen them, she had planned on it, and if she knew Euron now that the sun was gone and the moon was on the rise he would have his Silent Sailors moving his ship closer to hers before the darkness was eased by the rising stars. She also knew that Euron would know it was her, and he would want to take her personally. Her men had worked quickly and the green liquid now filled ever small jar and jug they had on board.

Asha smiled as she traced a finger along the hilt of the sword at her hip. The Moon was rising now, and … ah there it is. The Silence. And there at her bow, Euron. She was ready for this, he had won the Kingsmoot based only on what hung between his legs. She however would Rule the Iron Islands and bring the IronBorn back to glory.

* * *

As the stag roars in victory, a woman's scream reaches Bran's ears. The roar of battle is replaced with the sounds of a fight, a sharp cry and Bran sees Howland Reed standing over a dying Kingsguard, and his father on the ground. A second scream rings through the quiet, and Bran reaches the top of the stairs before his father does. The smell of blood makes him dizzy, there is so much of it, a maester is scurrying around the bed, while a familiar dark haired woman is standing over a small basin of water washing something. Bran sees his father run to the bed and stare at the bloody linens in horror.

"Lya? What?"

A pale hand reaches up to grab his wrist.

"Rhaegar is dead. Does Elia live? Is she safe? The children?"

Bran watches Eddard swallow slowly before answering.

"Lord Lannister sent his men after them. I arrived too late, the Mountain had …killed both of the children, and Elia as well."

Howland entered quietly and moved to the woman at the basin, pulling her into an embrace as he looked at what she held.

The maester murmured something that sounded like an apology before scurrying away. Lyanna wrapped both of her hands around her brother's as he stared at her bloody bed.

"Rhaegar was my husband, Robert knew… I know he did. I wrote to you and to Brandon. I thought he was at Riverrun so I sent the letter there. You and Robert were still in the Erie. Ned please, Robert will kill him. Please, protect my son. Please. Promise me Ned."

Eddard gently brushed the hair from her face and sobbed as he nodded. Lyanna closed her eyes as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. She never opened them. Howland moved to stand beside his friend and clasped a weak hand over his shoulder. The woman joined them with the babe swaddled in a grey fabric stitched in red.

"We have to work quickly Ned. Robert will want to know what happened here."

Eddard bowed his head for a moment and took a deep breath.

"We go to Starfall first, Ashara. We take your brother's sword home. Then you have to be on a ship away from this place. Lyanna was right, Robert will kill any who stood beside Rhaegar. You are not safe here."

Howland flinched and wrapped an arm around the woman's waist as she glared at the Lord of Winterfell.

"I cannot. I'm with child Ned, I'm due to have this child within weeks. I cannot deprive Howland of his heir."

Eddard considered a moment before the babe fussed and Eddard reached for the infant. As the Silent sisters came in to take Lyanna's body he moved to stand by the window with the babe.

"We will go to Starfall as planned, the pair of you will marry. Take a false name, we can hide you in the North, but if Robert thinks for even a moment Ashara Dayne is alive he will come for you. Oberyn Martel has already fled along with his paramour. Howland is known to never leave Greywater Watch, you and your child will be safe there."

Ashara nodded and glanced at Howland's worried face.

"And the boy?"

"He is a Stark, my sister's child, he will go to Winterfell with me."

"He would be safer with me."

“Jaeherys is all I have left of my sister. I will keep him safe."

* * *

Bran fell forward as he came back into himself, Satin dropped the rose he was carving and reached out to steady the boy. The wolves shifted to allow the man to help him into his chair. Satin gently asked what Bran needed, the boy was pale and shaking but could not answer. Ghost answered for him when he brought Jon to the godswood at a run. Bran launched himself into his brothers…. Cousins arms and wept.

"Bran? Bran what is it?"

"Jon… we’re running out of time. There's so much to tell … so much to do… were almost out of time."

"Time for what Bran?"

Jon held his brother close to his chest and yanked the glove off his hand with his teeth to card his fingers through the boy's sweat soaked hair. Jon tried to calm his distraught brother as Howland and his children entered the godswood followed by a fat man in black carrying carrying a scroll. Before he could ask what was happening, the wolves rose as one and faced the clearing in the godswood, a steady sound of winds beating grew louder and louder. In a swirl of snow a large green creature landed gracefully on its feet before them. Bran calmed and with a heavy sniff gently pushed Jon away from him.

"Hello Rhaegal."

* * *

At a keep in the Fingers, a woman looks out of an arrow slit at the ship docked at the small harbor. Her hair dark from water, and her scalp aching from scrubbing at the stains left behind by months of blue black ink. The deep red of her true hair color melting into the permanent black at the bottom, she would cut it but it served well to cover the red when pinned up beneath her hood. Lord Baelish was demanding she keep it dyed black to help hide her identity, but she refused to be anything other than a Stark when she stepped foot in the North.

Gently she brushed a hand against the skirt of her dress, feeling the thick padding of the underskirt beneath. Blindly her fingers traced the hidden seems of the final innermost skirt, the seams of the pockets she had sewn in by candlelight to hide her schemes.

Prince Aegon had agreed to align with her, agreeing that Winterfell would be hers. He confirmed that her sister was dead, her brothers soon would be and that when he was King the North would be hers. She had been concerned when the handwriting had shifted slightly during their writing, but the missive had explained that he had sustained a slight injury to his hand in combat with Lannister forces.

With no news of Robyn Arryns whereabouts, she had slowly reached out to Harry Hardying playing the frightened and concerned cousin. His ravens had been encouraging. Soon enough she hoped that he would extend an offer of marriage, and with her Uncle Edmure and his child likely killed by the Frey's, Sansa would soon control everything North of the Crownlands and East of the Westerlands. With all of those armies under her command it would be nothing to support the Dragon Prince in his bid for the throne, but the cost would be a Crown of her own.

Sansa smiled as she plaited the damp hair and coiled the braid around the crown of her head. The dark black ends wrapping over the red, thinking back to her promise at the heart tree. Her sister was gone therefore she had no reason to hold true to that promise, and if by some miracle she had survived and Aegon was unaware? Arya was always easy to provoke and likely had ruined herself from the last time she'd seen the little wretch.

Sansa opened the door at Baelish's single knock and tied her cloak around her neck. As the sails dropped, Sansa stepped to the bow of the ship and looked out over the open sea. Lord Baelish stood a few steps behind her, his hand resting on a hidden pocket of his own.


End file.
